


The Quirkless Hero: Omni

by Tylanoid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, F/M, Gen, Genius Harry Potter, M/M, Original Character(s), Support Class
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:11:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tylanoid/pseuds/Tylanoid
Summary: Harry has always been told that he cannot be a hero. After all, he's quirkless. Fortunately, Harry has never been one for limitations.





	1. Quirklessness

**Chapter 1 - Quirklessness**

 

A good programmer will jump straight into their code and hammer away at the keys until they have roughly what they want. Then they debug and alter it until they have a functional program.

A  _great_  programmer will stop, think seriously about what they want to accomplish, and perhaps scribble down a few notes about the best and most efficient way to reach their goal. They will write a short, succinct code that needs very little debugging or modification.

Harry is a near  _perfect_ programmer. He can write hundreds of lines in a single sitting and then run a debug, only to find he's made no mistakes, and his code is exactly what he wants it to be. His fingers are a flurry of confident movements across his keyboard, nary missing a key, and long strings of code appear on the screen before his eyes.

_If I can just get the memory coded right, I can -_

"Harry, could you come here for a moment?" His teacher, Mr Shaughnessy, asks, snapping him out of his trance.

Harry lets out a subtle sigh.  _Now what?_

"Can you help Seamus for a moment? I've looked over his code, but I think you will do a better job of explaining the problem."

_Who's he trying to fool?_

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose. It would be unfair of him to expect that everyone understand computer science as well as he does, but how is it his responsibility to teach the rest of his class just because he's good at it? Mr Shaughnessy can pretend all he likes that he can see the problem, but Harry knows better. He's been forced to explain very simple mistakes that  _any_ decent programmer would be able to see, let alone someone who's paid to teach the subject.

He leans over Seamus' shoulder, and it takes him all of two seconds to see the problem. "You're getting an error because your compiler doesn't know what  _x_ means. You need to declare it as a variable," he tells Mr Shaughnessy as much as Seamus. He receives two blank looks in return.

Harry suppresses his annoyance and points towards the screen. "See here? Your entire program rests on an unknown variable, which you've called  _x._ But you haven't declared it, so the program errors." Harry moves around Seamus and fixes the problem with a few measured keystrokes.

"You understand now, Seamus?" Mr Shaughnessy asks, sounding more confident than he really should, considering he himself probably still doesn't get it.

Harry turns away and rolls his eyes so that the teacher can't see him. As much as he wants to try and cram as much information into the teachers brain as humanly possible before he graduates, he knows it would be fighting a losing battle. But the real problem isn't the teacher, even if he is the biggest contributor to it. The real problem is the students. Not a single one of them appreciates having to be shown how to do things by the school's ' _quirkless loser,'_ as is abundantly clear by the glare Seamus is now sending his way.

Harry moves back to his own computer, a personal laptop set up in the back corner of the room. Even if he's still programming, he's not working on the same basic project that his classmates are. He'd finished all his final exams  _months_ ago, so now he's being allowed time to study for the entrance exams to whatever high school he wants to join.

Truth be told, he really should have graduated as far back as a year ago, if not earlier. But that requires parental consent, and that is not something that would be easily given.  _"Harry should graduate with the rest of his peers,"_ James and Lily had told the teachers who had called a meeting to vouch for his academic abilities. The teachers had naturally assumed that their decision was made in the interests of keeping Harry safe, and that they felt he was too young to deal with the pressures of high school.

Harry knows that's not the real reason, even if his parents would  _never_ admit that, even to themselves. If  _quirkless_ Harry were to be accepted into UA at such a young age, even if only in the support course, then all eyes would be on him, instead of on his brother, the son lucky enough to inherit their quirks. What is quirkless Harry compared to him? Even if he's special in an entirely different way, he still doesn't have a quirk, and that will never change.

So after their plans to graduate him early were rejected, the teachers suddenly had no idea what to do with him. There's nothing they can teach him, really, so if he's quiet and stays in class, they generally let him do whatever he wants. It's a lucky thing, in the end. It gives him even more time to plan his designs for acceptance into UA's support course.

He's barely into his seat when the bell rings, signalling the end of class. He folds down his laptop and moves to slide it into his bag just as Seamus begins to approach. He's moving slowly, clearly watching out his peripherals to make sure the rest of the students and Mr Shaughnessy leave the room.

Harry stares unflinching at the sandy-haired boy.  _Now what's he going to do?_

As soon as Mr Shaughnessy made him help Seamus, Harry knew there would be consequences. There are  _always_ consequences. It doesn't matter that he's only trying to help, and not even of his own volition. Harry is quirkless, and that makes him lesser than all the other students. Getting help from him is a weakness.

"You think you can show me up in front of the whole class?" Seamus hisses through gritted teeth. "You're just a quirkless little nobody."

He reaches out slowly, menacingly, with his right hand. Harry doesn't move an inch - utterly refuses to give in, even though he knows what Seamus can do with his quirk. He's not going to give the other boy the satisfaction of seeing his fear, even if underneath, his heart is racing. Seamus' hand begins to glow a dull red with the activation of his quirk. It burns hot, an ability a little like an iron press, only much more intense. Harry refuses to flinch even when Seamus' hand comes close enough to his arm that he can feel it start to burn from the heat. He's still not touching him, just inching his way slowly closer.

Seamus' face becomes a snarl as he locks eyes with Harry. More than anything, it probably annoys him that Harry won't back down or show him any fear, as always. Suddenly he smirks, and his red hot hand darts down to wrench Harry's laptop from his grasp. The outside metallic cover melts in his hand, the inside machinery spilling out like molten lava.

"You're not better than me. You're not better than  _anyone_ in this school," Seamus spits. He drops the remains of the laptop and leaves the room.

 

* * *

 

"Why didn't you just kick his ass?" Momo asks, clenching and unclenching her fists in rapid succession. Her jet black hair is tied up into a ponytail, and as per usual for her, she is dressed in a very short skirt and is showing more than a little cleavage, even as part of her school uniform.

"That's what  _you_  would have done," Harry answers, taking a bite out of his sandwich. The more indignant part of himself recognises that Momo would never be put in a situation like that, at least not for the same reasons. He puts aside the unhelpful thoughts.

"Damn right I would have. What I don't get is why you  _didn't?_ You know you could have, and that he would have deserved it."

"Maybe," Harry shrugs. There's no certainty in his mind that he  _could_ beat Seamus in a straight up fight, but he doesn't doubt that he could put up a lot more of a fight than what the other boy would expect.

"What's this maybe?" Momo queries. "We've both been in martial arts classes since we were knee high! You're an even better better fighter than I am, and I could pound that blonde doorknob into the ground even without my quirk."

Harry smiles and nods. "No doubt."

She shakes her head sadly. "You need to stop letting people walk all over you."

As nice as it is to hear his one and only friend be so upset on his behalf, it's not really a discussion he wants to have. It's not the first one they've had, and more than likely, it won't be the last, either. "It's not that simple, Mo," he answers softly.

Momo hesitates before she responds. "Isn't it? Don't you remember how we became friends?"

Of course he does. He'll never forget it as long as he lives. She'd transferred to their primary school in the very early years. Even then she was taller than most the boys in their year group, and for some reason some of them moronically thought it would make her a target. Harry had found a group of them making fun of her in the lunch break. She was too new to have made any friends, so she was all alone against them. His seven year old self had jumped to her defence almost immediately, ordering them to leave her alone. Of course, it hadn't been necessary. She'd gone on to create a staff with her quirk and beat the crap out of them herself, and the two of them have been best friends ever since.

"That was a long time ago, and it wasn't about defending myself," Harry tries to explain.

"You're lying to yourself if you believe you wouldn't do the same thing if it was happening right now. I just can't follow why you would immediately jump to someone else's defence but completely shut down when you have to protect  _yourself._ "

Harry looks across the courtyard to where Seamus is laughing with his circle of friends. Nick Potter can be seen clearly among them, laughing along with the same crowd that has been trying to make Harry's life miserable for  _years._ "What's the point? It's just a laptop. I've got plenty more at home. There's only like what, two weeks left of school? Why start something now?"

Momo wags a finger in his face. "Don't give me that! This has been going on for years, and you've  _never_  done anything about it."

Harry smiles again, still trying to lighten the mood. "Well that's what I've got you for!" he beams. It's a true statement. Everyone respects Momo. She's tall and beautiful, has a powerful quirk and a powerful family to boot. The only time Harry gets any crap from anyone is when she's not in eyesight.

"Harry…"

He sighs.  _She's not letting it go this time._

"It's not worth it," Harry says.

"Yes it-"

"Momo, it's  _not_   _worth it,_ " Harry repeats strenuously. "Say I did fight him. Say I  _'pound him into the ground.'_ Next thing you know I'm being called to the Principal's office for fighting, and that goes on your permanent record. The same record that UA's going to look at in my application."

Momo's lips press together in a firm white line. "But," she says in her often used analytical tone, "it would be self-defence. Your laptop is proof enough of that."

Harry shakes his head. " _Maybe_ I would be in the right. But who in this school would actually believe me? The only person I can think of is you, and you weren't there. Think honestly about how many people would think it funny to get a  _'quirkless loser,'_ like me in trouble by supporting whatever story Finnegan might come up with."

Harry looks back over towards his twin, easily finding his familiar mop of black hair amongst the crowd. "Even  _he_ wouldn't support me. It wouldn't bear thinking about that I could destroy someone's chance of getting into the hero course," he says sourly. "Even someone like Seamus is far more worthy than I am, all because he has a quirk, and I don't." Even as the words leave his mouth, he can see his brother mouthing them back to him in his mind's eye.

There's a crease between Momo's eyes. No doubt she can see the logic of what Harry's saying, and that she's just as upset about the injustice of it as he is. "How is it that the junior high school with the highest percentage of students who go on to become pro heroes, most of them trained at UA, is filled with so many small minded people?" Momo eventually asks, probably rhetorically.

Harry answers anyway. "I think it's  _because_ most of them go on to become heroes. They feel superior to everyone else, especially those they don't think have any power." It's a sad fact that in a world filled with so called heroes, true heroism is still rare.

Momo actually lets out a little laugh. "If they think that  _you're_ helpless, then they really know nothing about you at all."

Harry smiles.

"At least we'll both be at UA soon," she adds.

He nods slowly. "Let's hope so." Momo is already in on recommendation, but he still has to pass the entrance exams.

She grabs his face between his hands. "Repeat after me. I  _will_ be going to UA with my best friend."

Harry laughs. "I  _will_ be going to UA with my best friend," he replies dutifully.

"And I  _will_ be applying for the hero course," she tries.

Harry gives her a deadpan look.

She drops her hands from his face. "I know that building stuff is kind of your thing, but is it really your dream?"

Harry rolls his eyes with some amusement.

_One time I mentioned that I want to become a hero. One freaking time._ Momo has stuck the idea in her head like glue, even if Harry has accepted that fact that its just a fantasy. "I get the feeling that you just woke up today like,  _'I think I'll nag Harry relentlessly today, that sounds like a great idea.'"_

Momo lifts her hands in mock innocence. "Fine, fine, I'll stop." She chews her bottom lip anxiously, and Harry knows from experience that she's not going to be able to help herself from getting in one final word. "But you know I'm right," she says quickly. She changes the subject before Harry even gets a second to respond. "How's the progress going with Omni? I hope you didn't lost too much data when Seamus melted your computer…"

"Everything I work on is saved simultaneously to my private server," Harry replies, more than happy with the change of subject. He's quite glad to talk about the things that he  _can_ control, rather than the things he can't.

 

* * *

 

"Why do you always feel the need to  _push_ people," Nick chastises him as they step inside the front door of the building that serves as both their parents hero agency and their home.

Harry doesn't answer. There's nothing he could say that his brother would understand even if he did. He's used to this anyway. Nick always tries to tell him off after one of his idiot friends has done something to Harry, and he's well past sick of trying to explain his side of the story.

"Do you think it's funny or something? You feel like you don't have any power without a quirk so you have to make other people feel stupid?"

Harry smirks. "Like I even have to  _try_ to make people like Seamus feel stupid," he can't help but mutter. It wasn't intended to be loud enough for Nick to hear, but clearly he does. He grabs Harry by the shoulder and spins him around so that they're face to face. It's almost like staring into a mirror, except for the fact that Nick has James' hazel eyes, compared to the vibrant green of Harry's own, passed on from Lily.

"So that's what it is then? God Harry, if that's it, you can hardly blame Seamus for breaking your laptop if you're making him feel like an idiot on purpose," he says, judgemental tone in full force. "Frankly you were lucky he didn't do worse. At least you have about ten more laptops upstairs in that damned workshop of yours."

Not for the first time, it strikes Harry just how bad a hero Nick would make were he to get his license right now. It's hard to decide whether Nick is truly as dense as he appears in moments like these, or if he just subconsciously doesn't want to accept what his so called 'friends' are actually like.

When they were younger they were practically inseparable. Even after Nick's quirk came through, and Harry's  _didn't,_ they were the best of friends. But it wasn't to last. There's not a doubt in Harry's mind that Nick still cares about him, at least deep down; but status means more to him now, and James and Lily have done their part to make sure Nick cares more about becoming a good hero than a good person, even if it's not what they intended.

The chiming of the elevator has them finally breaking eye contact. Remus Lupin steps out and looks between them. Understanding dawns on his lightly scarred face. "Your parents are looking for you, up in the agency," he tells Nick.

"Right. Thanks, Moony," Nick says, using the man's hero name rather than his given one. He steps into the elevator and presses a button on the wall. Before the doors close, Harry and Nick lock eyes once more. Like Nick, Harry makes sure his face remains stoic and impassive. As ever, neither of them are willing to submit to the others argument.

"That boy really needs to learn to think for himself," Remus sighs when the elevator starts to rise. Harry smiles slightly. It's never mattered to Remus that Harry is quirkless. He's always been more interested in what Harry  _can_ do instead of what he can't, and Harry loves him for it.

"I'm guessing something happened at school today?" Remus guesses.

Harry shrugs. "Nothing I can't handle."

Remus nods. He's never doubted Harry's ability to fend for himself, instead content to just make sure he's okay every now and again.

"I must admit I find it difficult to believe anyone would even  _try_ to bother you with young Miss Yaoyorozu around. All Might himself would run away screaming if she caught him messing with you." Harry laughs out loud, trying to picture All Might running in fear for his life from his friend. At least he's not the only one in the world who sees how lucky he is to have Momo in his life.

"Shall we?" Remus asks, stepping towards the second elevator. Harry nods and steps inside. The Potter agency is different from most other agencies in that it houses most of it's sidekicks and management team all in the same building. The Potters were a rich family even before James and Lily became popular pro heroes, so they were well able to construct their own agency in such a way.

Despite how he feels about his parents being heroes and the numerous disadvantages it's had on his own life, he can't deny that there are advantages, either. For once, the bottom two floors are set aside entirely for training, including a large dojo and an entire floor set aside as a massive obstacle course. Best of all is that these facilities go mostly unused by the heroes currently assigned to the agency. They're generally intended for any sidekicks whose quirks may not be combat oriented, and this need to use martial arts or other skills as a substitute. Since they have no heroes or sidekicks with such needs at the moment, Harry and Remus almost always have it to themselves.

The elevator stops on the second floor, which consists of the gym and dojo, but he's only here for the latter. He prefers to do his muscle trainings in the mornings before school. In the end it's important he doesn't overdo it anyway, since his fighting style relies on him being able to move quickly and efficiently, which would be difficult were he built with large, bulky muscles.

He quickly changes into the freshly washed aikido uniform on the wall, consisting of a white top, known as a gi, and white pants. The belt is black, but it's not symbolic of any kind of rank that Harry has officially earned. His self-defence practice has consisted mostly of him sparring with Remus, or sometimes Momo if she's free. He's never bothered with any competition, instead quite content just to sharpen his skills for his own benefit.

Remus is already waiting in the centre of the dojo by the time Harry is ready. Without a word, he drops into a fighting stance. Harry steps over and faces him, adopting a similar form. There's no hesitation when Remus strikes, nor any sign that he's going to pull his punches.

But Remus doesn't need to hold back, not with Harry. It's not because Harry is as good as he is, though there's not much in it. Rather it's that they've been training together for so long that Harry can read his mentor like an open book.

He sidesteps Remus' punch and launches a high kick of his own, aimed directly at Remus' ribs. It's looking like a solid hit, bit it misses by mere inches when Remus jumps back to avoid the blow.

Harry uses the momentum of the kick to spin forward and strike with the back side of his hand. Of course Remus is ready for it, blocking the attack with one arm while striking with the other.

It's usual practice for them to trade blows in such a way. Every move they make against the other is instinctive, and they know just how the other will react to it. If he's honest with himself, it's not a good thing, since it means that he's not really learning anything new. Still, it's a good way to keep the movements etched into muscle memory. After several long minutes, both short of breath and sweating, they finally slow to a stop.

"Getting pretty fast there, Harry," Remus huffs.

Harry laughs, though it's more of a stunted, wheezy sound when he's so short of breath. "Maybe you're just getting slow in your old age."

"I'd love to deny it, but you're probably not far off the mark," Remus chuckles in return. "Hitting the obstacle room today?"

Harry shakes his head. It's what he would normally do after a sparring session, but he's too busy now to really even think about it. "I'm gonna skip it. I'm still putting the finishing touches on my design for UA."

"Really? You're usually more organised," Remus says, sounding more surprised than judgemental. "The Review board for the support course is only a few days away."

Harry shrugs. "I actually finalised the design weeks ago, but I'm just adding something extra. Once the idea was in my head I couldn't resist. It's different from anything else I've worked on before."

Remus cocks his head to the side. "Very mysterious. Can I have a hint?"

Harry smiles but shakes his head once. "Keeping this one close to the chest." He grabs his clothes and schoolbag before heading out towards the door. "But I'll tell you this -my new project is called Omni."

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hoped you enjoyed reading the first chapter. This one has been swimming around in my head for a really long time now, and I’ve had drafts written for months, so I figured I might as well post it.
> 
> Just so people know, this won’t be a Harry/Momo fic, they’re just awesome friends.
> 
> If you couldn’t tell from the first chapter, this might feature characters acting pretty O/C, but that’s not that weird considering it’s a full on AU fic.
> 
> Also, there is no magic in this fic at all. Its just Harry Potter characters in a world of quirks and superheroes.
> 
> I hope some of you take the time to review. Reviews are like my lifeblood.
> 
> Also I’m playing with a different tense in this fic, so if I’ve screwed up at all, feel free to let me know, the habit of using past tense is proving hard to break :\
> 
> Thanks!


	2. The Interview

**Chapter 2 - The Interview**

 

Harry is very unaccustomed to nerves. Frankly, the feeling downright sucks. Where he should be going over and over his presentation in his head, he's instead distracted by the sickly pit that's formed in his stomach. He's normally able to keep his mind on a logical point. Where things might go wrong, he'd usually just force himself about the worst possible outcome.

It's normally enough to calm him down. Not today. This meeting is the deciding factor on the entire path of his future. If the worst thing that can happen today is him not getting accepted into UA, then that seems very bad indeed.

The written part of the exam ended hours ago, and he's certain he passed. He hadn't expected it to be difficult. It's really just to make sure that any students gunning for UA's courses can actually handle the academic requirements for normal classes. It's not arrogance to know that he falls far above these levels, it's fact.

For support students especially, the written exam isn't really the issue. Anyone who can engineer tools well enough to get into the support course is no doubt within the higher tiers of academics of their year group. So it's the meeting with the review board that is important.

If hero applicants are accepted on their ability to use their quirks, then support students are accepted on how well they can craft the devices that heroes will use in support of their quirks, or in addition to them. Just like the hero course, UA's support course will only accept the very best, so he  _has_ to sell his ability in this area. There's not a doubt in his mind that he's got what it takes - the problem lies in proving it to the review board.

" _Just speak confidently,"_ Harry remembers Remus' sage advice.  _"UA is looking for those who believe in themselves unconditionally, whether it is for the support course_ _ **or**_ _the hero course."_

Harry reaches for his phone. It's already five minutes past the time he was allocated for his interview. Unfortunately, his slot is one of the last of the day. At the start of the day there had been  _hundreds_ of applicants, and now he's one of only a few still left waiting.

He clicks into the messages app, re-reading for what must be the thousandth time the message that Momo had sent him in the early morning. ' _You're getting into UA today. Soon those teachers are gonna believe in you almost as much as I do.'_ Harry smiles in spite of himself, knowing that he probably looks like a grinning lunatic. Even without her physically being there, Momo's confidence in him is a constant comfort.

"Harry Potter?" A young woman comes through the door in the waiting room. He stands. "They're ready for you."

_Deep breaths._

He returns his phone to his pocket and moves over to the woman. She guides him down a short hallway and into another room. The door shuts behind him when he steps inside, and he lets out a nervous whoosh of air. The room inside is large and almost completely empty, except for the long desk at the end of it, which sits in front of an equally long window. There are three people sitting behind it.

The man on the right Harry recognises  _immediately_ as Professor Dumbledore, otherwise known as the Phoenix. After years working as a pro-hero, Dumbledore became one of the most well-known creators of support gear for heroes. He's now the headmaster of the support course at UA, and along with his now deceased mentor Nicholas Flamel, one of Harry's personal inspirations.

Next to Dumbledore in the middle of the desk is Professor McGonagall, formerly known as the hero Transfigure, but now known to be a teacher in UA's support department.

He doesn't recognise the man on the left. If he was ever a hero, he's not one that Harry has ever seen, and going off his quirk, which gives him the appearance of some sort of black bird, he'd be very recognisable.

"You must be Harry… Potter, is it?" McGonagall asks, reading from the sheet of paper in front of her. At his name, she raises her head to peer at him over her crescent glasses. "Any relation to the Potter Agency heroes?"

Harry nods once. "They're my parents."

She raises an eyebrow. "I would've expected the child of such prominent heroes to aim for the hero course," she comments, still looking over his application form. "Oh, I see - quirkless." He's very glad to hear that there's no noticeable sympathy in her voice. There are far too many people who state the fact like he has some sort of incurable disease.

"Well, if you're not aware - My name is Professor McGonagall, and this is Professor Dumbledore,' she motions to him, "and Professor Snape."

"It's an honour to meet you," Harry says. He's not so sure that Professor Snape feels the same way. He's glaring at Harry with beady yellow eyes, all the more prominent when they're surrounded by his oily black feathers and yellow beak.

_I guess it was too much to expect to escape the quirkless bigotry, even here._

"You'll find your creation over there," McGonagall informs him, motioning over to the side of the room, where only a few devices remain. Harry's can be seen clearly among them, his assigned case number stuck to it's outside. They'd all been forced to hand over their creations at the start of the day, presumably so the staff could scan them for any potential security issues. After all, UA is as well known for it's unbelievably stringent security as it is for being the top hero school.

He quickly retrieves the large metal case and returns to the centre of the room, directly in front of their desk. McGonagall gives him a happy nod to let him know he can begin when he's ready. He bends down to flick open the latches. His devices are still firmly locked into the hardened foam inside. He pulls out the larger piece.

It's a jet black, cylindrical device, with two sharp, silvery metal prongs visible on the top side. It's hollow and thin, the perfect width for Harry's arm to slip inside. He holds it aloft in front of the teachers.

"This is a wrist fitted grappling device," he says, making sure his voice remains loud and concise. He's immediately cut off by an unimpressed scoff from Professor Snape. McGonagall turns to give him a quick glare, but Snape never turns to look at her, though he can doubtless see her out his peripherals.

Harry takes a deep breath.  _It's okay, you were expecting this reaction. Wait until you show the more impressive parts of the design._

Harry clears his throat. "It has a shooting length of eighty-seven metres, and well enough grappling power and propulsion to carry a person of practically any size, with an exception perhaps for those who have a growth or density quirk," he adds, thinking primarily of the hero Mt. Lady.

"Eighty-seven metres?" Dumbledore asks, leaning over the desk to get a closer look, blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "That's quite a length for such a small device. May I?" He holds out his hand. Harry hands it over. "Fascinating," Dumbledore mutters, just barely loud enough for Harry to hear. "It's quite light, and very sleek in it's design. Most grappling launchers are bulky, especially those intended to be worn on the body."

He hands the device over to Professor McGonagall, who turns it over in her hands in close examination. She gives it several hard raps with her knuckles. "Good choice of materials. Lightweight, but not at all brittle," she adds. Thats quite a compliment indeed. After all, who knows more about chemical composition than someone who can alter it with her quirk?

"I am curious though, how something so unassuming can reach such lengths, and with such a tensile strength as you claim," she says. Harry approaches the desk and turns the device over in her hands. "I left this panel loose in case you wanted to look inside," he informs, gently prying off a thin metal square on it's top side.

Dumbledore and Snape both lean over her shoulder. The inside of the grapple is filled with coils of even thinner metallic cable. Harry knows from his extensive testing that they reach almost exactly eighty-seven metres.

"I've never seen a material like this," McGonagall breathes. Harry steps back and reaches back into his case to pull out extra of the cable that he'd brought for just this occasion. He hands it to her. She grasps it gingerly before grabbing with both hands and pulling, hard. It doesn't stretch, or come anywhere close to breaking.

"This alloy is utterly unique," she determines. "Where on earth did you get it?"

"I designed it myself," Harry says. "It's a combination of different metals, taking the best qualities of each and reducing the negatives as much as I possibly could."

All three teachers look at him as if he'd suddenly changed colour. There is silence for several long seconds before a large smile makes it's way onto Dumbledore's face. "Extraordinary," he claps his hands once.

Harry shifts his head to stare at a random point on the wall as the blood rushes to his face. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. McGonagall hands the device over to Professor Snape, and the loose cable back to Harry, who quickly places it back in his case.

"This is impressive, no doubt, but I can see no way to activate or control it, so in the end it seems no more than a useless bauble," Snape sneers.

_I'll show you useless bauble, you jackass._

It's the moment of truth. If the grapple alone isn't enough to get him in, then hopefully the next part of the design is enough to change their minds. No matter how well crafted it might be, a grapple isn't exactly groundbreaking. The next piece of technology that he's built with it  _is._ This is the part of the design that took  _months_ to finalise and get working correctly.

Harry reaches once more into his case. What he picks up is the most unassuming device that he'd brought with him. It's just a small black box, only half a centimetre wide and three centimetres long. There's a smaller arm-like appendage that stretches off it's front corner. He stick it onto his temple using a clear, sticky resin, with the arm of the device resting just over his eyebrow.

"Is this part of the same creation?" Snape asks, crossing his feathered arms across his chest. "You cannot show two separate devices."

Harry shakes his head. "No, it's all part of the same design. The grapple can't work without it." He reaches out to take his grapple back from Snape and slides it firmly onto his right arm, making doubly sure that the metal prongs are on the top side. He taps the new device on the side of his head to power it on. "Do you have something I can shoot this into?" He asks, lifting the arm with the grapple in front of him.

"Cementoss can repair any damage dealt," Dumbledore says eagerly. "Use it anywhere you like." Professor Snape looks less than impressed, but beyond the click of his beak snapping shut, he doesn't dispute him.

Harry lifts his arm straight above his head. With a mere thought, the metal prongs shoot upwards and embed themselves firmly into the ceiling. Another thought and Harry is rising slowly through the air, the grapple lifting him off the ground with ease. He speeds the process up and flies towards the roof, until he can reach out with his free hand to stop himself.

"I can control the speed, the direction, or I can call it back to the device itself," Harry says, looking down now at the interviewing teachers.

Dumbledore begins to laugh. "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!

"I don't understand how-" McGonagall starts off, but she doesn't seem to know how to finish.

_Yes!_

This is exactly what he was hoping for. There have been ventures into this sort of technology before, but as far as Harry has been able to find out, nobody has been as successful with it as he.

"There are no buttons you pressed, nor any obvious method of activating the device. So how did you do it?" Snape asks, his voice lined with barely veiled suspicion. "Are you not quirkless after all?"

Harry lowers himself to the floor and releases the cable from the roof. It snaps back into place on his wrist. "If I'm not mistaken," Dumbledore begins, clearly happy to answer for him, "I'd say young Mr. Potter has created a successful neurotransmitter."

"Impossible," Snape scoffs.

Harry smiles. He's not all that surprised to see him guess correctly. One doesn't become headmaster of the support course at UA without being supremely intelligent.

"Evidently not," McGonagall says with a slight shake of her head.

Dumbledore leans forward over the desk again. "Can I see it?" Harry has to fight the urge to laugh with glee. One of the brightest minds in the  _world_ is acting like an excited schoolboy over something that  _he_ has created. Harry taps the transmitter to turn it off before removing it and handing it over to the elderly professor.

Dumbledore squints as he holds it up in front of his glasses. "Much, much smaller than what I would expect of a device such as this," he says.

"Yes. The first prototype was much bigger, and it would have remained bigger if I'd needed it to connect to even one more device, at least if I was connecting it in the same way," Harry explains. "It took an  _awful_ lot of work to get it that small."

"So this small device is connected to the one on your wrist?" McGonagall asks. Harry nods. "And also somehow to your  _thoughts?"_

Harry nods again. "It can send off and receive small electrical signals, like firing synapses, only they control the movement of this," he says, holding up the grapple once more.

"Fascinating," Dumbledore murmurs again, still turning the neurotransmitter over in his hands. "My eyes aren't quite what they used to be, but I believe I can see a projector, here." He points to the arm that branches off the main square.

"…Yes," Harry answers uncertainly. "I've been trying to come up with a different method of giving the neurotransmitter control over multiple devices. The projector is connected to that project, not really the one I've chosen to show you today."

Dumbledore tilts his head. "I'd very much like to hear about it, if you don't mind."

Harry hesitates. Omni is nowhere  _near_ ready, or even as complete as he would want it to be before showing it. He should quit while he's ahead. The teachers are already clearly impressed, and he thinks he will probably get in. That said, it's likely the best opportunity he's going to get to show them what he's  _really_ capable of.

_It's a risk, but if it pays off? I'll be certain to get in._

"I can  _show_ you, if you like," Harry hesitantly offers.

Snape shakes his head with unnecessary vigour. "No applicant is allowed to show more than one piece of equipment!"

"Hush Severus," Dumbledore immediately shuts him down, not even bothering to look at him as he does so. He nods at Harry to continue. Harry reaches for the neurotransmitter Dumbledore is still holding. He sticks it back onto his temple and turns it back on, this time giving it a double tap to activate the projector as well.

A holographic projection forms in front of his left eye. It's like a tony computer screen, glowing blue. Wherever he looks, different numbers and figures jump onto the screen, instantly calculating and showing the measurements and details of what he can see.

"Three-dimensional projection?" McGonagall asks. Harry nods. "Impressive for so small a device, but what does it have to do with the neurotransmitter, and connecting more devices to it?"

Harry opts not to answer her, instead pulling his phone out of his pocket. Both she and Snape pull odd faces, but they don't say anything. Dumbledore still watches with rapt attention. Harry scrolls through his lists of applications until he sees the one he designed himself. The app called Omni. He opens it.

"Omni, are you there?" Harry asks.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Omni answers through the phone's speakers. Omni's voice is definitively male sounding, though very slightly robotic. It's not too surprising, given that it's a computer generated voice.

Snape scowls again, but Dumbledore is still watching like he's seeing the greatest TV show of all time.

"Omni, can you give me a rough description of what we can see?" He asks, holding the phone out in front of him and double checking that it's on loudspeaker.

"Certainly, Harry," Omni says matter of factly. "You are in a room approximately ten point two five metres by twelve point five metres long. There is one window on the south side of the room measuring seven point five metres. There are three humans sitting at a desk in front of the window, seemingly two males and one female-" Omni continues.

"That's enough, thank-you," Harry says, and Omni stops abruptly.

Once again the professors remain silent, but this time he really can't read what they're thinking. Deciding it won't hurt to show more, he takes the grapple off his wrist and aims the metallic prongs back towards the roof.

"Omni, release the grapple."

Omni doesn't answer, but the grapple shoots upwards into the roof. Harry lets it go and lets it hang by it's cable alone.

"Slowly retract," Harry orders. It begins to move slowly down towards the floor.

"Now pull it up, fast," he says, causing the device to fly upwards towards the ceiling.

"Release." The grapple drops out of the air, and Harry reaches out to catch it smoothly.

He closes the app and puts his phone back in his pocket. The nerves are back.  _This was a terrible idea._ Still, the teachers faces' remain impassive and unreadable, even Dumbledore's.

Snape is the first to speak. "That was artificial intelligence, was it not?"

Harry nods slowly.

"Damned fool!" He spits. "Do you even understand what you've done?"  _Shit._ His head becomes heavy, and he lets it drop towards his chest.  _It was a stupid risk, and I never should have done it. Looks like I'm not going to UA after all._ That thought hurts more than anything has hurt him in his whole life.

"Severus, stop," Dumbledore says firmly.

Snape turns a betrayed eye on him. "Albus," he pleads. "You must see that what this boy has created is potentially  _devastating."_

Dumbledore shrugs. "Artificial intelligence is indeed potentially dangerous. Not unlike a powerful quirk in the wrong hands, or a car being driven by a negligent driver."

Snape apparently knows when he's facing a losing battle, and instead turns to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, surely  _you_ agree that this kind of research and the progress he has made with it is incredibly dangerous!"

She ignores him, instead focused on Harry himself, who shifts awkwardly on his feet. "Do you disagree with Severus' conclusions, Mr. Potter?"

Once more, Harry hesitates.

_Lie._

But he can't.

"I don't… disagree?" He says, uncertain. "Artificial intelligence has very dangerous potential, I'll admit. But Omni  _isn't dangerous."_

"Then you're saying that Omni isn't an artificial intelligence?" McGonagall asks.

Harry shakes his head slowly. "… It is," he clarifies nervously. "But not in the way that you're thinking."

"Perhaps if you explain further," Dumbledore offers.

Harry nods. "Artificial Intelligence can be considered dangerous because it is endlessly goal-oriented regardless of the situation it is in. It  _must_ reach it's programmed goal no matter what stands in it's way. Also, because it is self-learning, there is no guarantee that it can be fully controlled. But not Omni."

"Omni has been programmed from the ground up to help  _me_ reach  _my_ goals, and has very strict rules about the way it can do that. It's true that Omni can act autonomously, in a way, but the person using Omni  _must_ be the one taking direct action, the one giving the orders. Omni is but one half of a whole."

"And whoever is using Omni is the other half?" Dumbledore asks.

"That's right."

Professor McGonagall pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "How long have you been working on this… Omni?"

Harry thinks back for a moment. "About three months, I guess?"

Snape is still shaking his head. "I've heard enough. We should be doing everything we can to shut this project down  _immediately,"_ he says angrily, slamming a feathered hand on the desk.

Harry's stomach might as well be doing somersaults at this point.

 _Idiot. Idiot. Idiot._ He chants in his head. He's never regretted anything like he regrets showing Omni too early. He should have waited until he can prove it isn't dangerous. McGonagall lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair. Harry is reminded of Murtaugh from the Lethal Weapon series and his catchphrase -  _'I'm too old for this shit.'_

"Mr Potter, I'd like to offer you a full scholarship to the support course here at UA," Dumbledore says very suddenly, without any sort of consultation with his fellow teachers. Harry's eyes go wide as saucers.

"Albus, you cannot possible be serious!" Snape tries.

Dumbledore smiles. "And why not? Young Harry here has just proven to us  _exceptional_ ability in the fields of advanced computing, chemistry, physics, even biology. We would be remiss if we let this opportunity pass us up."

"But this artificial intelligence of his is-"

Dumbledore cuts him off, firmer this time. "If we were scared of every technological achievement we ever came across, human beings would still be finger-painting on cave walls."

"But this sort of progress should be  _monitored-"_

"And it will be monitored, here at UA, under your ever watchful gaze," Dumbledore chirps happily. "Should he accept, that is."

_Oh, I accept. I accept SO much._

"What do you think, Minerva?" Snape asks his colleague, no doubt hoping she will fully agree with his point of view.

"Well," she begins. "You're not incorrect, but neither is Professor Dumbledore. If this sort of research is to occur, it should be done here, where it can be properly monitored. I certainly agree that he should be offered a scholarship. I would have suggested it even if he had not shown his artificial intelligence. The grapple and neurotransmitter alone go quite far beyond what has already been accomplished in the way of computer-human interfacing. I look forward to seeing what he can accomplish with our resources."

Harry  _beams._ He's not sure he deserves such a glowing review, but he's more than happy to accept it.

"Then it's settled. Unless Mr Potter chooses to go in another direction, he will be attending UA Support next semester," McGonagall says. "Congratulations. You should be very proud of yourself."

"Thank-you." Harry says, on the verge of reverence. "Thank-you so much."

 _Except you, Snape._ Harry is still shaking with nervousness at how close he had come to not getting into the school  _at all._ His entire future on a plate, and Snape had almost dropped it like a clumsy waiter.

"It was truly a pleasure meeting you, young man. I think we can expect great things from you," Dumbledore adds.

Harry places his devices back into the case and leaves the room. He couldn't stop smiling even if tried.

 

* * *

 

Momo screams incoherently through the phone.

Harry laughs. He's currently walking through the streets after leaving his interview. It's late now, having had to spend so long waiting for his interview, and the sun has already gone down, but Harry doesn't care. He's in. Of course Momo is the first person he wants to tell.

" _I knew you'd get in!"_ She says, still borderline screaming. She stops suddenly.  _"No Mum, I'm fine, just excited!"_ Harry hears her call out, causing him to laugh again.

"Well, I wasn't sure I  _would_ get in for a minute or two there, but I did it," Harry says, still unable to wipe the smile from his face.

" _I didn't think you'd find out so soon,"_ Momo admits, her tone just as excited as Harry himself feels.  _"I thought you'd have to wait for an acceptance letter in the mail like everyone else."_

Harry tells her about what happened in the interview. He tells every detail. As she always does, Momo hangs on his every word. She's the one person in his life who seems to listen to him  _absolutely._

" _That's so great. Now we're_ _ **both**_ _in on recommendation,"_ Momo says.

"I guess we are," Harry laughs. "I really wanted you to be the first to know."

" _That's sweet."_

"Have you eaten? I feel like celebrating before I go home and my family finds some way to crap all over my happiness," Harry says, only somewhat joking. They'll be happy for him of course, but there'll definitely be an undertone of them not  _really_ caring. He can see it now.

" _No, not yet. Want me to meet you somewhere?"_

Harry's about to answer before he's knocked swiftly off his feet, and a loud blast fills his entire world. It's like a gun going off directly in his ear, and he scrambles backwards along the ground helplessly. The ground shakes beneath him for a moment.

" _HARRY!"_

His ears are ringing, but he can still make out Momo's frantic voice coming from his phone on the ground nearby.

" _HARRY!"_ She calls again.  _"Are you there?"_

Harry scrambles to the phone and lifts it to his ear. "I'm here," he says with a shaky voice.

" _Oh, thank God. What the hell happened?_

He's not entirely sure. He can't see over the nearby apartment buildings, but he can hear the sound of people screaming in the distance, and the acrid smell of smoke is beginning to fill his nostrils.

"I… uhh - I think there was an explosion," he says, still dazed.

" _Where are you?"_ Momo demands.  _"Are you hurt?"_

Harry starts running towards the corner to get a better look. "I'm alright. I think it was around the corner from me."

" _Where are you?"_ Momo asks again, more insistent.

"I'm three or four blocks from UA."

Harry reaches the corner, where he can immediately see people flooding the streets, some of them covered in soot and charcoal. He can see what the source of the explosion was, or at least where it originated. It's an apartment building, about five storey's high, and it's currently burning. There's a huge chunk of the building that's been destroyed, presumably in the blast itself. People are streaming out of the building on the bottom floor, but there's a few on higher storey's waving out the windows for help, clearly stuck.

"Oh my God," Harry breathes.

" _What! What is it?_

"It's burning. They're stuck," Harry says, talking to himself more than to Momo.

He doesn't even hear what she says in return.

"I have to go," Harry says.

" _No! Stay on the line!"_

"I have to help them."

" _No, Harry wait!"_

He hangs up the phone, and runs towards the burning building.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes
> 
> So that's chapter 2, sorry about the cliffhanger. Just really want to thank everyone who's taken an interest in this fic, especially to those who took the time to review.
> 
> If your review had a question, or some comment that I feel I should respond to, I'll do so at the end of the next chapter.
> 
> Also, if you didn't notice, I've added that this story updates on Tuesdays AEST (Australia time) to the summary, so look for updates on that day.
> 
> Also I wanted to let you know, even if its probably crazy obvious in this chapter, that I am by no means knowledgeable about scientific processes. I know random facts, and can kind of research other areas (where I can understand what Im reading lol) but I'm not going to get terribly bogged down with how things work and why.
> 
> Thanks Again!


	3. Harry Potter: Origin

**Chapter 3: Harry Potter: Origin**

 

Years of seeing disastrous scenes on TV news and in movies couldn't have prepared Harry for the real thing. It's an awful sight to behold, and it makes something twist awkwardly in his gut. The people streaming out of the building are covered in soot and grime, and some even have bloody faces and limbs, clearly having been struck by the debris of the explosion. Others are clutching at their throats as they struggle to regain their breath amidst the acrid smell of smoke.

The are several high pitched screams filling the air. They aren't the same as when characters in movies scream, either. It's a piercing, gut wrenching, horrible sound that makes his heart beat faster in his chest. The people that aren't injured stand on the lawn in front of the building, watching on with abject horror. Some cover their mouths, as if unable to believe what they're seeing, and unable to do anything about it.

The picture the scene presents is almost enough to make Harry turn and run for the hills, but he holds his ground. There are no heroes in sight, and at the speed the building seems to be burning, the people on the top floors need help  _now._ There's no real decision making process that takes place before he's taking action. He drops the case from his interview to the ground and begins fiddling with the latches with shaking hands.

_Cmon, open you stupid thing!_

The case clicks open, unfolding into two halves on the ground. He wastes no time slipping the grapple onto his right arm, but he hesitates briefly on the neurotransmitter. He needs it to work his grapple, no doubt, but whether he should activate Omni is another question entirely. He hasn't completed even  _half_ the programming he wants to have done, but even in an incomplete state, Omni is well capable of calculating complex equations and read measurements instantaneously, something that could prove invaluable under the current circumstances. That's not to even mention the handful of random additions he  _has_ gotten around to programming.

There's no real choice. Omni can help, and that's the only thing that matters right now. He sticks the device to his temple and gives it a double tap, activating the familiar holographic screen over his left eye. He opens his phone and Omni's app, turning the volume up as high as possible.

_If only I'd gotten around to making an earpiece…_

"Dangerous situation detected," Omni says through the phone as soon as the app is active.

Harry ignores it. "Can you find me a safe way onto the top floor?"

Harry knows that Omni can see what he can, using the small camera on the neurotransmitter. "There is a high chance of serious injury or possible fatality if you follow that course of action," Omni warns.

"Can you see a way in, or not?" Harry yells.

"The easternmost window on the top floor has lower heat levels than the rest of the building," Omni says. On the holographic visor, the window in question glows red.

Harry thanks every god he's ever heard of that he'd decided to install a thermal detection device into the transmitter only a few weeks prior. He hadn't even installed it with this sort of application in mind. It was intended to make sure that Omni could warn if the transmitter would overheat - but this works, too.

He doesn't hesitate before he's lifting his right arm and firing off the grapple, where it latches into the top of the lit up window frame. Harry urges the grapple to pull him forward, as fast as he can will it to move.

Instinctively, he tucks in his body. It's a movement that's been etched into his brain by almost daily sessions at the Potter Agency obstacle course. He smashes through the window shoulder first, detaching the grapple at the same time he makes contact. It slaps back into position on his wrist, and he rolls forward as he hits the ground to absorb the impact.

He's landed in a hallway between apartments, and the raging fire can be heard all around him. It's sounds as though he's trapped in the middle of a tornado. There's a sort of crunching noise occurring somewhere underneath him, mostly likely the building beginning to fall apart where it's been destroyed by the fire.

"The structural integrity of the building is compromised," Omni says, though Harry has to strain to hear it. Just ahead of him, a part of the floor breaks through, revealing licks of flame coming up from underneath. He lifts his arm in front of his face to try to guard himself from the heat. The hole lights up on the visor, surrounded by measurements and percentages that Omni has calculated.

"We need to get the survivors to safety!" Harry has to yell just so Omni might be able to hear him. He remembers without Omni needing to tell him that there was a woman two windows over from the one he'd entered. "Access public records for the building and pull the pla-" Harry begins.

"Already downloaded. Now showing route to the last known position of the closest survivor," Omni says.

Were he in a different situation, he might smile. This is the entire reason that he'd decided to make a full artificial intelligence rather than just a sophisticated virtual intelligence. Omni is capable of taking helpful action without Harry needing to spell out every detail. Just as Omni had said, a path lights up on the visor. Harry follows it.

"Government websites on fire safety suggest staying low to help avoid smoke and toxins," Omni supplies helpfully.

Harry curses.  _Idiot. What good can I be if I forget basic fire safety?_

He stays on his feet, but remains as low as possible. There's no way he can afford to begin crawling along the ground, even if it's safer for him. It would take too much time, and the building is burning at a very rapid pace.

Grateful for small mercies, the path to the woman remains mostly sound. Jagged cracks appear in the walls, and small fires burn all over the place, but it's not too much trouble to follow the path. At the same time, its abundantly clear that it won't stay that way for long.

The door to the woman's apartment is closed. "Check for backdrafts," Omni says as Harry reaches out towards it.

He lightly presses his hand against the wood. It's definitely not cold, but he wouldn't think it's hot enough to be completely ablaze on the other side, either. He hesitantly touches the door handle, but luckily it's not burning hot. Very slowly he opens it, prepared to slam it shut if a burst of heat comes his way. It never comes, and Harry opens it wide. It leads into a kitchen area, not yet on fire. The woman is over by the window in the living area, still screaming out for help.

"Over here!" Harry shouts. She turns to face him with a look of wild fear in her eyes.

"Thank God. Are you a hero? Please get me out of here," she cries feebly.

Harry makes his way over to the window and looks out. There's even more people on the lawn than there was when he'd come in, but these people just look on the scene powerlessly, just like the others.

Harry knows there's a six and a half minute response time at best for emergency services, so he's not all that surprised to not yet hear any sirens. Still, he'd been hoping that a pro-hero might be here by now, but as far as he can tell, there's none yet.

"I'm detecting an active mobile signal in the next apartment," Omni says.

 _Shit._ It was probably too much to expect the survivors to make their way to the same place, but it sure would have made things easier. With the rate the fire is spreading, there's no way he can afford to go around searching for people, so having the location of at least one more is still good news.

"Come with me," Harry tells the woman.

"We can't go  _that_ way!" She yells at him when he turns back towards the hallway, where Omni has illuminated the path to the next survivor. Harry coughs, and squints. The smoke is getting thicker and thicker, and it's hard to keep his eyes open with how much they're stinging.

"Stay calm. There's someone in the next apartment, and we need to get them out, too," he says, once more lifting an arm over his face.

"No! Save me first!" the woman sobs. She's cut off by a loud crunch sounding from outside her apartment door. Harry rushes over and looks out. The floor has fallen through, revealing the raging inferno burning underneath them. Even being a storey up from the flames, the intense heat is enough that he can't keep looking at it without it burning his face.

Harry runs back over to the window. From this height, the fall might just be deadly, and he's got no way to stop or even slow the fall, even with his grapple.

_I need a-_

He spots a thick towel hanging over the back of the woman's couch. He grabs it and rushes back to the window, handing it to the woman. He keeps Omni active, but puts the phone in his pocket before climbing out on the window ledge, holding his left hand on the inside of it to keep himself steady.

"What the hell is this for?" The woman panics, staring at the towel as if it's some sort of alien creature. He ignores her, instead lifting his right arm and shooting the grapple at a slight angle downwards towards the ground on the other side of the street. It's not a steep angle, just enough so that she might be able to slide down without it being like falling.

"Climb up here," Harry orders.

"I'm afraid of heights!" She shakes her head from side to side.

_No time for this…_

"You'll die if you don't! Get  _up_ here!" He barks.

Much more slowly than he would like, the woman climbs onto the ledge, gripping onto Harry for dear life. Harry's grip on the inside of the window is enough to keep them both steady.

"Swing the towel over the top of the line."

"I c-can't!"

"Yes you can!" Harry locks his eyes onto hers. Still moving slowly, hands shaking, she throws the towel over the cable. "Wrap your hands in it, and then slide off. It'll hold," he says. He hopes his tone is enough to make his promise clear.

The woman takes a deep breath, and seemingly finds her courage. She steps off the edge and screams as she begins to slide down the grapple cable. Harry's grip on the inside of the window tightens, basically having to hold the woman's entire body weight up with one arm. It hurts, but he can manage it, probably due to the adrenaline flooding him.

When she's close enough to the ground that it's unlikely she'll be hurt, Harry calls the grapple back to his wrist. She falls the last few feet to the ground and lands in a heap on the ground. Some of the bystanders rush to her aid.

_One down, one to go._

He pulls his phone from his pocket. "Is the mobile signal still active?"

"Yes."

Harry closes his eyes and takes a breath. He leans as far out as he can manage without falling. The window to the next apartment is lit up red on the visor, and he aims his grapple above it and fires. When it's firmly lodged, Harry steps off the ledge. He's falling quickly before he wills the grapple upwards, practically sliding along the outside of the building towards the apartment in question.

The apartment inside is ablaze, but it looks as though he can manage to get inside without setting himself on fire. He slips his legs through the open part of the window and grasps the upper ledge of the glass before releasing the grapple and pulling himself inside.

"Where is the signal coming from?" Harry coughs out over the roaring flames. He keeps himself low. Instead of answering, Omni lights up the nearby cupboard door on the visor. He's hoping that the active signal means there's no fire inside, since there's really no time to check for a potential backdraft.

He pulls the door open without hesitation. Inside is two young kids and an older boy huddled together. The older boy is holding a phone to his ear, probably either to his parents or emergency services.

"Come with me, quickly!" Harry says, holding out his hand. The boy only hesitates for a second before reaching out and taking it. He's probably only a few years younger than Harry himself, maybe eleven or twelve. He helps the other two children to their feet, but even that's a struggle considering how distraught they are. Both of them look to be less than ten.

They step out of the closet behind Harry, and the girl sobs that she wants to leave. The older boy is trying to keep them calm, but he's just as panicked as his younger siblings. Harry looks around, trying to decide on a plan to escape. Ideally he would use the same way he got the woman out. The older boy could slide down with one of the younger kids and Harry could take the other…

_Too much fire._

He'd need to tie the grapple off somewhere to slide down himself, and there's nothing. He can only see one other option. If he takes the grapple off, they can use it to rappel down the side of the building. He can control it using the neurotransmitter, so it just  _might_ work. It's a risky approach, considering the fire on the floors underneath and the structural instability of the entire building, but there's really no other choice.

"The integrity of the building is rapidly declining," Omni warns from his pocket. Harry can see the numbers appearing on the visor as Omni scans the cracks appearing in the walls.

"Quickly, this way," Harry says, ushering the three of them over to the window. He leans his head out and shoots his grapple above the window once more, checking it's stability with a strong pull. He slides it off his wrist and hands it to the older boy. "Take one of the kids and climb out the window. Hold on to this as tight as you can and it'll lower you to the ground, okay?" Harry explains his plan quickly.

The boy pales considerably, quite a feat under such intense heat.

"Nod if you understand," Harry urges.

The boy hesitates, but he nods. He grabs the young girl by the hand and helps her climb up onto the ledge.

"Hold onto him as tight as you can," Harry tells the crying girl, in a tone intended to be gentle but comes out quite tense. Nevertheless, she puts her arms around her brother's shoulders and grips his back tight, her hands turning white with the pressure. The boy winces, but he seems to be able to take it.

"Don't let go until you hit the ground," Harry makes him promise.

"Okay," he wheezes. He steps off the ledge, and the girl screams. The grapple holds steady.

Harry wills it to go down, having to let them down much slower than he would like. He can't afford to let them down any faster, not if it might be enough to startle them into letting go. They're almost to the ground when Harry feels the floor start shaking under his feet.

His next move is purely reactionary. He turns to the remaining boy, placing a hand on his chest and pushing forward as hard as he can, further away from the window and into the burning apartment. He manages to jump forward after him just as the floor beneath him gives way.

It's far from a clean landing, but Harry does manage to grip the edge of the now broken floor, the flames below grabbing at his ankles. Adrenaline fuelled, he scarpers up onto the slanting floor.

The boy appears to be fine physically, but if he was panicked before, now he seems inconsolable. But there's no time to try to soothe him. He turns to where the window used to be. Not just the floor has disappeared, but the outside wall, too. Harry can see the crowd looking on him with dread. They're looking at him like he's already dead.

_No. I'm not done yet._

_No grapple. Only one choice left._

Harry reaches down and picks up the boy under his arms, who wraps both his arms and legs around Harry like a toddler, clutching him as tight as he possible can.

"My calculations suggest you only have ten seconds before the floor collapses again," Harry barely hears Omni still speaking from his pocket.

_Omni's programming is far from complete, so maybe I have more time… But I might also have less. I have to get out, right now._

He backs up as much as he can without stepping into the flames. He's close enough to them that he can practically feel the skin burning off the back of his legs, but he's going to need as much momentum as he can get.

"Hold on tight. Don't let go."

Harry starts to run. Omni's readings indicate he only has about five metres to build up as much speed as he can. It would be a whole lot easier if he didn't have a child hanging off him, but that's just not an option.

He vaults off the end of the jagged floor and out over the inferno beneath them. In his whole life, he's never put as much strength into anything. He can practically  _feel_ the adrenaline coursing through every cell in his body. The last thing Harry remembers before losing consciousness is turning himself over so that the boy is held above him, and his back faces the incoming ground below.

 

* * *

 

Harry dreams about a beeping machine.

_Or maybe that's reality._

He's definitely not in his own bed. His eyes slowly open. The constant beeping is off to his right. It reminds him of the EKG machines you see in the movies. He slowly turns his head. The events of the fire come flashing back to him.

_Oh. It_ _**is** _ _an EKG. At least that means I'm alive._

There's a shuffling pressure at the end of the bed. He shifts his gaze downward, wincing slightly as they adjust to the light. All he can see is a boy with a mop of messy black hair leaning over the end of his bed. His back is slowly rising up and down with his steady breathing. The sun shines on him from the window behind.

Harry nudges him with a leg under the blanket. Some part of him is grateful that he can move them at all, since it means he's not paralysed.

"Nick," he croaks, though it hurts his throat to do it.

_Probably burned from the smoke._

Nick lifts his head instantly. His eyes are wide, and a relieved smile breaks out onto his face. Harry blinks.

Nick launches himself up the bed and wraps his arms underneath Harry on the bed. It hurts, but it's so worth it. He can't even  _remember_  the last time his brother hugged him. It would be years at least, so a little pain is a small price to pay. It's just nice to see a caring look on his twin's face again.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Nick whispers in his ear, sounding on the verge of tears.

"I can't say I'm upset to be alive, myself," Harry says, his voice dry and gravelly.

Nick takes his arms out from underneath him and sits up, wiping at his eyes.

_Oh. He_ _**is** _ _crying._

"Are you sure about that?" Nick gives a sort of half-laugh. "What you did could almost qualify as a suicide attempt." Harry can't help but chuckle, though that hurts, too. His back is aching ridiculously, but he can feel his legs, and it doesn't really feel like his movement is overly hindered.

"What happened to the boy?" Harry asks. "The one I had with me?"

Nick smiles. "He's alright. He and his siblings are suffering with some smoke inhalation damage, like you, but nothing too severe. You took all of the impact of the fall onto yourself," he says. He doesn't sound the least bit happy about the last part.

Harry lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. "The woman?"

"She's fine too. She's already been released."

_Thank God._

The room is silent, uncomfortably so. Nick is clearly happy to see him alive, but Harry can tell from the increasing tension in the room that he's getting angry. There's no real tells on his brother's face suggesting it, but even if they've grown apart over the years, Harry can still read his twin like a book.

"How many died?" Harry eventually asks. He's almost afraid to hear the answer, but there's no doubt there were people in the building he simply didn't get to.

Nick sighs. "Seven. Two in the initial explosion and the rest in the fire."

Harry lets his head lay back onto his pillow.

 _Five people that I might've saved if I'd been more prepared._ There's silence again.

"What actually happened?" Harry asks again. "I just heard the explosion when I was around the corner."

Nick steps back off the bed and leans back against the window. "A gas explosion, they think. What do you remember?"

"All of it, I think, up until I lost my grapple and I had to jump."

Nick shakes his head. "That fall should've  _killed_ you, you know."

Harry doesn't even have the slightest idea what to say to that.

"I was the one who answered the phone," Nick says, little more than a haunted whisper.

Harry frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The police rang us at home. All they said was that you'd been in an accident - that you'd fallen  _five storeys."_

_Oh._

"God Harry, I thought you were  _dead,"_ his voice breaks. "I don't know what I would've-" he trails off.

"I didn't know you cared that much." The words are spilling out of Harry's mouth before he even considers them. It doesn't send Nick the message he really wants to send him.

Nick locks eyes with him. "Don't  _say_ that," he hisses. "Of course I fucking care."

Harry closes his eyes again.  _God I'm an idiot._

Neither of them say anything for close to a minute. Harry just has no idea what to say to him, and he suspects that Nick is in the same predicament. It makes him sadder than he would've thought. When they were young they were so  _close._ Harry could trust him with anything, and now they don't even know how to have a proper conversation.

"You said  _should've_ killed me," Harry eventually breaks the silence. "Is there some reason it didn't?"

Nick nods firmly. "Transfigure and Recovery Girl," he says simply, as if it explains everything.

"Transfigure? You mean Professor McGonagall?"

Nick nods again. "They heard the explosion at UA. Transfigure got there just in time to transform the ground where you landed into water. Even with that the fall almost killed you. If not for Recovery Girl getting there as well, it might have. She treated you at the scene. If she hadn't have gotten to you so fast, you'd probably never walk again. Because she did though, the doctors think her quirk will have finished healing you by tomorrow morning."

"Right," Harry says. He'd have to remember to thank them both as soon as he gets to UA. "Where's mum and dad?"

"They went downstairs to get coffee. Mum's been here with you the whole time. Hasn't left your side until dad finally convinced her. She's gonna be annoyed that she left at almost exactly the same time as you woke up."

Lily and James choose that exact moment to return. Lily is at Harry's side almost instantly, just a flash of red hair. She grips his hand. "Oh my baby" she cries. "You're awake. Are you feeling okay? In pain? Should I get the nurses to bring you more painkillers?" She barely stops to take a breath between her questions.

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry answers with a sigh and a smile.

"Let him breathe, Lil," James urges. Lily turns to glare back at him. James ignores it. He's more than used to her glares.

"Gave us quite a scare," James says.

Harry dips his head. Perhaps it was selfish of him - no it definitely was, but the thought of his family hadn't even entered his thoughts when he ran into the fire. As contentious as their relationship can be, Harry knows that their lives would never be the same were he to suddenly die.

"So you're not in any pain?" Lily asks again, patting his hair like she used to do when he was a little boy.

"My back hurts, but it's alright, it's not too bad," Harry assures. He can't help but smile. Despite the circumstances that led them here, it's nice to see how his family truly feels about him.

_This is what family is meant to be._

"My beautiful boy," Lily murmurs, still patting his hair. "What were you thinking?" She asks, still in the same gentle, soothing tone.

 _There it is._ A gentle tone isn't enough to stop Harry's anger rising up like bile. "I was thinking that they needed  _help,"_ he says with a huff.

"You should have waited for emergency services, or the pro's," James says, fatherly stern tone in full effect.

"Did you actually  _see_ the building?" Harry asks. "There wasn't exactly a lot of time."

"We  _all_  saw the building. And we saw you getting loaded into an ambulance," James says, clearly trying to paint a picture for him of what they went through. "It was  _reckless_ running into that fire."

Harry rolls his eyes, unable to believe the hypocrisy his father is spouting. "Maybe it was, but can you honestly tell me you wouldn't do the same thing?"

James scowls. "That's completely different and you know it!"

"Why, because your a trained pro, or because you're not  _quirkless,"_ Harry accuses.

His father shakes his head sadly. "Both!"

Harry looks purposefully away. He's trying his best not to fume with anger, but he's not having much success. It's only the pain in his back that's keeping him from getting up and arguing more earnestly.

"Harry," Nick interjects. "You must see Dad's point… You said only five minutes ago that you were forced to jump when you lost your grapple thingy. Would that happen to someone with a quirk?"

 _Damn him._ He most assuredly doesn't agree, but it's hard to argue against his own words when they're put in such a context.

Lily reaches out to grasp his hand again. "We don't want to fight with you, but you  _did_ scare us. We just don't want to lose you."

The words are completely disarming, and he finds his anger evaporating with them. "I know," he says, unable to stop the tears forming in his eyes.

"I should tell you," James says, and Harry looks up with blurry tear filled eyes to see his father smiling on him. "We are so proud of what you did. Just… please don't do it again."

Harry lets out a small laugh. It's been a long time since one of his parents has told him they're proud of him, but he can't make the promise his father wants him to. Deep down, Harry thinks that they probably know that themselves, too.

 

* * *

 

"Here's the bravest kids I ever met," Harry smiles as the children that Harry saved from the burning apartments step into his hospital room with their parents. Harry's own family had left a few hours ago to get some sleep, having spent almost a full exhausting day at the hospital waiting for him to wake.

Their father steps up to his bed and shakes Harry's hand firmly. He still can't get out of bed, but Recovery Girl's quirk is having a fast effect on him, so he can at least sit up, now. "I can't thank you enough for what you did for my family," he says.

His wife is far less formal, leaning close and pulling him in for a firm hug. "You brave, brave boy," she says, gripping his hand. "I don't know how we can ever repay you."

Harry shakes his head with a smile.

"You don't need to worry about that. I'm just glad the three of you are all right," he says, directing his statement at the children. The older boy and his sister both shuffle their feet and hide their smiles, but the other boy, the one Harry was carrying when he'd jumped, dips his head towards the floor.

Their mother leans closer and whispers in Harry's ear. "I think Jayden feels guilty because you were hurt saving him," she says.

Harry nods in understanding. "Jayden, right?" Harry asks. He nods sadly, still directing his gaze at the white floor. "Can you come here for a second?"

The boy looks up with tear-filled eyes. He hesitates for a moment before stepping up to the bed. Harry places his hand on his shoulder. "You know, I think you saved my life, too. You were very brave. You did exactly what I asked you to do, and that's why we both got out. All  _three_ of you were brave."

He's not just putting it on to make the boy feel better. Looking back, if the children had been as slow and hesitant as the woman he'd saved, they wouldn't have gotten out in time.

"But the doctors said you got hurt because you fell first, but you only fell first because you turned me away from the ground," the boy begins to cry softly. Harry grips his shoulder tighter.

"I'm gonna be just fine," Harry promises. "The doctors told me that this time tomorrow I'll be able to go home. It was my choice to fall first, so don't you even worry about it, okay?"

He looks a little happier when he hears that Harry's going to be okay, but its clear that he's still upset about it. They all look up when there's a knock at the door.

Momo is standing in the doorway. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she says.

"Hey Mo," Harry greets happily.

"We should go, and let you catch up with your friend," the woman says. "Thank-you again, so much."

She ushers her husband and kids out of the room, and Momo steps in past them. He doesn't even get to say another word to her before she's rushing him, wrapping him up in her arms. He can feel her hot tears falling onto the nape of his neck.

"I'm so sorry, I wanted to be here when you woke up. I waited all night but my parents made me go home to sleep, and-" she says quickly, her cries racking her body.

"Relax, Momo," Harry laughs. "Breathe."

She lets him go and leans back, rubbing the tears from her eyes. He knows from experience that she hates to cry, especially in front of people, but right now it doesn't seem to bother her.

"Don't  _ever_ do that to me again," she says forcefully.

"You here to yell at me too?"

Momo laughs quietly. "You wouldn't listen anyway." Her face turns more serious. "You scared me."

Harry reaches for her hand. "I'm sorry."

Momo sniffles. "Don't be. You did an incredible thing. I'm so proud of you."

Momo's always had a habit of saying that exact thing he needs to hear. He wishes his parents could have said it so simply, without the addition of them doubting his ability.

"Enough of that though," Momo says, sniffling away the last of her tears. "We never got to celebrate you getting into UA! You're gonna be the best support student UA's ever seen!"

Harry turns away, suddenly pensive. "I doubt it."

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I'm not staying in the support course."

Momo's eyebrows crease together. "What do you mean? Are you going to turn down your scholarship?"

Harry shakes his head. "No. Im going to accept my scholarship and begin UA in the support course. I'm going to work my ass off developing Omni, and every other tool I can come up with."

"And then?"

"Omni was so incredible in that fire. Went so far beyond my expectations, and I've just barely begun working on it. It's already saved  _four_ lives," Harry explains. "But seven people still died. If I was more prepared, I might have been able to save them, too."

"You can't mean to say that you blame yourself?" Momo says, looking at him as if he's grown a second head.

"No, that's not it. I'm trying to say that  _next_ time, I'm going to be more prepared. I can't learn that in  _support_ course," he says, emphasising that last word and looking his friend dead in the eye.

Her mouth drops slightly open. "Then… you're going to try for the hero course eventually?" There's a hint of hope in her voice.

Harry nods. "I'm going to do it, Momo."

"I'll  _be_ a hero."

 


	4. Orientation

**Chapter 4 - Orientation**

 

_Zap._

"Ow, fuck!" Harry curses, giving his loose hand a few shakes in the air.

"Those are live wires, Harry," Omni gives him a late warning. "Do you require medical attention?"

Harry wiggles his fingers experimentally. "I'm  _fine,_ Omni." He leans closer over the desk, flicking a small switch on the side of his self-designed goggles to increase their magnification.

_Just one more piece is all I need._

Of course, it just happens to be the most difficult piece of the entire design. It's certainly not the most complicated, and all he really needs is to attach the final few wires to the CPU, but their spectacularly small size is making it a frustrating endeavor.

He's in his workshop in the Potter Agency, a large room on the third floor from the top, just below the penthouse where his family live. In the past, the workshop would have been full with an entire support team working for them, but now the only one to use the space is Harry.

"Good afternoon, Nicholas," Omni greets suddenly. Harry turns in his wheeled office chair to see his twin walk into the room.

"Hey, good timing," Harry says. "Can you do me a favor and hold this still for a second?"

Nick doesn't seem to be listening. Instead he's looking around the room wearing a bewildered expression. "Who was that?"

 _What? Oh._ Omni had greeted Nick first. "That's Omni, a program I run when I'm designing. Omni can think alot faster than I can," Harry says. It's really only half the truth, but it can't really be considered a lie, either.

"A pleasure to meet you, Nicholas," comes Omni's pre-programmed response.

"Just Nick, Omni," Harry says. "He doesn't really like being called Nicholas. Makes him feel like he's in trouble."

"I apologize for any offense," Omni says, to the surprise of even Harry. As an AI, Omni is well capable of searching for an appropriate response if Harry hasn't already programmed one. He never programmed Omni to apologize.

"Erm, it's fine," Nick says before turning to Harry. "How does it know my name?"

Harry shrugs and turns back to his device. "Omni has had  _a lot_ of coding. Do you mind holding this still?" he repeats.

Nick steps over and places his hands on both ends, keeping it from moving. "Isn't this the same as that grapple thing you made for your UA interview?"

Harry nods. "I lost the first one in the fire. This is the second I've made since then, with a few enhancements from the one I designed for UA."

"Why would it need enhancements? Didn't you get a scholarship based on that design?"

Harry shrugs again. "Sure, but there's no such thing as technology that can't be improved." He leans over the grapple once more, much easier now that he doesn't have to hold it in place. With Nick's help, he manages to connect the loose wires to the CPU.

"Connection established," Omni declares.

Harry lets out a whoop for joy. This design is much better. Physically it's much the same, same materials, same wire and shoot length. No, the improvements on this pair of grapples is more technological. Rather than being connected to a neurotransmitter, these two are connected to Omni, and the only thing connected to the neurotransmitter is Omni.

"Why'd you make two?" Nick asks.

Harry ignores the question. He'd much rather  _show_ him why. Talk is boring. "Are both grapples properly separate from one another?"

"Yes. I have a clear but distinct connection to both left and right," Omni assures. Harry pushes off the table, rolling along the floor on his chair until he reaches the end of his desk, where his computer is located. The information on the screen confirms what Omni had told him.

Barely able to handle the anticipation, Harry opens the drawer on his computer desk and pulls out the other grapple, identical to the one completed only moments ago. He slips it onto his left wrist and the newly completed one onto his right. He turns, aiming his lift arm towards the other side of the room, where there's a wooden target set up for exactly this moment. It's chipped and cracked from Harry's first grapple testing, but it's still sturdy enough.

"Fire the left," Harry orders Omni. The grapple fires flawlessly, striking the target just off it's centre. "Now, pull in." The cable slowly starts to pull him towards the target on his chair. At his command, the grapple releases and clicks back into position on top of the grapple. He repeats the test with his right arm, and it performs with just as much success.

"Both are fully operational," Omni confirms. Harry glances back at the computer screen. From the information Omni has gathered on his quick test, the response time was even faster than Harry had been hoping for.

 _Finally._ It's months and months of work coming to fruition. This is the moment he had dreamed of back when he'd first discovered the shortcomings of the neurotransmitter. Now, he doesn't need to connect more devices to it, which would make it overly large, he just has to connect new devices to Omni, and Omni can control everything else.

"Well, damn," Nick whistles. For a moment Harry had forgotten he was even there. He's so used to his workshop being empty bar him, and Omni, now. "I can see why you got a scholarship."

Harry tilts his head to the side, still unused to such compliments from his brother. It's been a month since the fire, and their relationship since then has improved considerably. It's still nothing compared to the one they shared when they were just kids, but it's something. Somehow, Harry almost dying has at least found them on common ground again.

"Thanks," Harry says simply. "So what are you doing down here? Not that I'm complaining."

Nick lifts an eyebrow. "Seriously? Your orientation starts in an hour."

Harry, spins in the chair to check the time on his computer. "It can't be that time already!"

"The time is 12:59 PM," Omni supplies helpfully.

Harry leaps out of the chair. "Crap! I need to get ready! Are Mum and Dad ready to go?"

"Hang on!" Nick calls out, stopping Harry in his tracks. "Mum and Dad had to go on patrol. They sent me down here to tell you they can't make it."

_No, of course they can't._

He doesn't know why he even expected any different. When have they ever cared about anything he does with his life? He should have known from their reaction to finding out that he'd actually gotten the scholarship in the first place.  _"That's great honey, maybe being in the support course will keep you out of trouble,"_ Lily had said. It wasn't exactly the celebratory response he'd been hoping for.

Still, there's a part of him that desperately wants them with him today. He'd thought that just maybe they'd finally appreciate all the things he can do if they were to see the facilities at UA.  _What a fool I was._ Since when does life ever wrap up in such a nice way?

"I could go with you instead?" Nick offers. "If you want?"

Harry's voice is cold when he answers. "No. I'm used to doing things on my own."

 

* * *

 

Harry knows he shouldn't be angry at Nick. It's unfair and it's petty, but he just can't help it. James and Lily had practically done a jig when Nick got his acceptance letter, but when Harry tells them of his scholarship, it's little more than a pat on the shoulder and a half-hearted  _'well done,'_ not to mention the added caveat of it "keeping him out of trouble."

He really doesn't want to feel such enmity towards his brother, especially with how things have been improving with them since the fire. They've been finding it easier to converse, and even Nick's friends at school had stopped giving him such a hard time before graduation two weeks earlier. Even for Nick to offer to come with him today is a vast improvement over what they might have had even a month ago. Yet Harry's resentment won't be so easily shed.

He sighs and tries to refocus his mind on something more helpful. Regardless of whether or not his parents are with him or not, Harry knows he has to pay attention at this orientation. It's an important day. He's potentially about to find out what class he's in, meet some of his classmates, and most importantly, see the world-renowned state of the art facilities for the support department. It's a day he's been dreaming of for years, ever since designing his first computer system so many years ago.

There's a small crowd beginning to flow into UA's assembly hall as he approaches, all the support students who have been accepted with their families. He's actually surprised to see so many people. He knows from the acceptance letter that came in the mail that there are only twenty-one students who have been accepted, but there's probably well over a hundred people lining up to get inside.

Harry steps inside with the rest of them, feeling a little self conscious that he's shown up by himself, since the other students have obviously brought so many of their friends and families. Harry finds himself wishing that he called Momo to come with him.

Most people are are already seated down in the front of the Hall, a large room with a stage, all the seats organised into an amphitheatre around it. Harry takes a seat towards the back. There's still a few minutes until it's meant to start, so Harry spends his time looking for his future classmates, easily recognisable from the nametags they'd been given at the front desk.

"Hi," a voice sounds from nearby. Harry looks up to see a boy walking down the aisle towards him. He has neat, jet-black hair, blue eyes and a handsome face with unblemished, pale skin. He looks to be about the same age as Harry.

"Hi," Harry returns simply.

The boy's eyes drop to Harry's nametag before lifting back up to look him in the eye. "So  _you're_ the competition, he says. He sits in the seat next to him. Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. The acceptance letter from UA had included the results of not only their own entrance exams, but the results of the other accepted students as well. There were two almost perfect scores, and one of them was his own. Harry can't remember the name of the other boy who had equalled him off the top of his head, but it indicated that he'd been offered a scholarship, too.

There are many outspoken critics of UA's unusual habit of revealing the results and rankings of the students at UA, but Harry, and most people who dream of attending the school, recognise it as an effective method of fostering healthy competition between the students. UA has a reputation for always pushing its students to be number one, but that's a position that can't be reached without knowing the current student who holds the position. How can one move up the ranks if they don't know what rank they hold?

"Apparently so," Harry answers with a small smile. "Nice to meet you." Harry offers his hand. The boy looks down for a moment with a frown, considering the outstretched hand with piercing blue eyes. He hesitantly reaches out to grasp it with his own.

"Right…" he says slowly. Harry gets the feeling he hasn't had this sort of friendly introduction with too many people before. Either that, or he has absolutely no interest in being friends, and only views Harry as someone to beat. The boy reaches into the breast pocket of his buttoned shirt, pulling out a nametag that he sticks to his chest.

_Just like I thought…_

The boy is the other scholarship recipient. It's not that surprising, considering the way he'd declared Harry as the competition. Harry remembers the name as he reads the nametag.

' _Tom Riddle.'_

 

* * *

 

McGonagall's welcoming speech is short and succinct, exactly what Harry would expect from her. She wastes no time in quickly congratulating the twenty-one accepted students before telling them they will need to working harder than they have ever done in their entire lives. She makes a point of informing them how important everything they will learn in support course is, and that it could one day mean the difference between life and death for a hero using their gear.

He's not really interested in her speech. She's not saying anything he doesn't already know, and in the end it's not really all that different from any other orientation speech. It's the tour that he's excited for. He knows its only intended to be brief, just a quick look around the campus, but Harry desperately wants to see the workshops of the support department. If the school's reputation is to be believed, they have anything and everything one might need to make all sorts of different devices. Supposedly, they boast an unmatched pool of resources and materials.

 _There's still something I need to do first._ He watches McGonagall stalk up the aisle and past he and Tom's seats, motioning for the crowd to follow her. Harry pushes past Tom and quickly races after her. "Professor McGonagall!" he calls. She stops just a few metres outside the hall and turns to face him.

"Well, if it isn't the young and reckless Mr Harry Potter," she says in a tone that he can't decide is chastising or teasing.

Harry rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just wanted to say thank-you. If you hadn't have arrived when you did…"

"You would have died," she says matter-of-factly, finishing his sentence for him.

Harry sighs and dips his head in agreement. He'd been hoping she wouldn't give him the speech about being reckless, but judging from his tone, he's about to hear it anyway.

"It's simple fact. At that height, and considering the angle and added weight of the boy with you, if you didn't die, you would most likely be fully paralysed. It was a reckless move you made, running into that fire."

Harry nods, keeping his gaze low. "I know. That's why I wanted to thank-"

McGonagall cuts him off bu holding up a thin finger. "Another simple fact is that if you  _hadn't_ run into the fire, four people, including three young children, would now be dead," she continues in an altogether kinder tone. "Not that I approve of your acting without thinking of course, but you  _did_ act, and four people are still alive because of it." She reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "If you must act again, make sure you have a plan."

The corner of Harry's mouth upturns into a slight grin. "Of course, Professor." She takes her hand off his shoulder with a tight laugh. Out of his peripherals, Harry can see the rest of the crown catching up to them. Tom is already almost upon them.

"You know," Professor McGonagall adds. "After seeing your exploits in that fire, I half-expected you to try for the hero course and follow in your parent's footsteps after all."

_Just a matter of time. But I'm not doing it to follow in their footsteps._

Before Harry can answer her, Tom is standing next to him. "Your parent's are heroes?" he asks.

Once again, Harry fights the urge to roll his eyes, The support course is his chance to finally escape his parent's and his brothers shadow, so the last thing he wants is for them to find out who his parents are - it's the one benefit of them deciding not to come. Still, he can't avoid it forever, and he's not so rude that he'll just ignore the question.

Before he answers, the rest of the group catches up, and McGonagall is herding them towards the main building, a massive glass structure consisting of four towers, interconnected with one another via several walkways so that the the building is shaped like a giant letter H. The towers rise from the base building, where McGonagall is currently taking them.

"Yes," Harry admits while they follow.

"Anyone I might know?" Tom queries.

Harry has yet to come across someone who hasn't at least heard of them. The Changing and Psion aren't in the top ten heroes or anything, but they've been around a long while and are fairly recognisable.

"Have you heard of Changeling?" Harry asks. He's expecting Tom to look sort of impressed, the way that most people do, but instead he lifts his hand to his chin, as if thinking deeply.

"Then that would make Psion your mother," he mutters, seemingly to himself, but loud enough for Harry to hear. "Changeling can morph into any animal in the world, and Psion can create telekinetic constructs…" Tom lifts gaze to meet Harry's. "That would suggest you have quite a flashy quirk. Shouldn't you be in the hero course instead?"

_He doesn't care who my parents are at all. He's just trying to psych out the competition._

Harry smirks. "I'm quirkless, actually. Some people don't  _need_ a quirk to get into UA," he says. For all he knows, Tom could be quirkless too, but the statistics would suggest otherwise. It's the first time in his life that he's been able to use the fact that he's quirkless as a defense, and it's actually a great feeling.

 _Two can play at this game._ Suddenly Harry is full of energy, and completely awake. Remus had warned that all the students would be trying to compete, be he wasn't expecting the mind games to start on orientation day. It's actually quite exhilarating.

Tom's eyes widen, and he draws away from Harry, just a fraction. He says nothing for a few moments, simply looks intently back at him. Its definitely clear he hadn't expected Harry to respond with so little effort. Eventually, he smirks too. "… I like you," he says.

Harry lets out a suppressed laugh.  _I'll definitely have to stay on my toes with him around._

"This is the support building," McGonagall tells the group following behind her. They'd already been walking through the main building for maybe a couple of minutes, headed towards the easternmost tower, now revealed to be the support building. If one tower serves as the support building, then the other three no doubt belong to the other schools of UA - Hero course, Management Course and General Education.

As they head further down the hall, which is right on the outside of the building, with the perfectly manicured lawns being just outside the large glass windows, they can see a large hanging sign.  _'Development Studios,'_ it reads. Underneath them, about ten metres away from each other, are three thick metal doors leading further inside the building. They're labeled 1F, 1G and 1H.

"Welcome to Development studios," McGonagall says, turning around to face the group. "These are the three first year classrooms, where you will be spending the vast majority of your time this year."

_Three classrooms. Twenty-one students, so seven students per class._

"You will be be split up into classes of seven upon the start of term in two weeks time, and one of these rooms will be both your classroom for academic subjects, as well as your workshops for support classes," McGonagall continues, proving Harry's theory correct.

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall," one of the student's mother asks. "My daughter Parvati's acceptance letter for the hero course said that term didn't begin for another  _four_ weeks."

For a brief second, Harry is confused as to why someone with a child in the hero course would even be here, until he sees the twin girls with her. Obviously, they're like he and Nick, with one in the support course and one in the hero course.

"Yes, your daughter Parvati will begin in the hero course in four weeks time, but your daughter Padma will begin in  _two_ weeks time, with the rest of the first year support students. I'll reveal the reasons for this in just a few minutes," McGonagall explains. She returns her focus to the entire group. "Now, each class will have it's own homeroom teacher, learning under either myself, Professor Severus Snape, or Professor Higari Maijima."

 _Oh crap. I might end up with Snape as a homeroom teacher? What was it Dumbledore said in the interview? 'He will be monitored, under your watchful gaze.'_ With that memory, Harry has a sinking feeling that he already knows  _exactly_ who is homeroom teacher is going to be.

"Now, the workshops aren't quite ready yet, but you should be able to get a picture in your head about what they will look like," McGonagall says, stepping forward and pushing on the thick metallic door to class 1F.

Tom and Harry are the first into the room behind her, practically pushing each other out of the way to get a look at the support resources.  _God, he's as eager as I am._ The two look at each other with a slight snicker as the rest of the group pile in behind them.

The classroom is quite large, and stretches longer than it is wide. Closest to the entrance of the room is the class area, complete with seven desks and chairs sitting in front of a teachers desk and a blackboard. But that's the boring part. Behind it is the workshop, consisting of seven design spaces set up into large cubicles, a little like what one would expect to find in a modern day office. Behind the cubicles the room opens up wider, and is filled with heavy machinery and technology to assist with any design processes they may need. There's a heavy door at the back of the room marked  _'materials.'_

From just a quick glance, the workshop is everything Harry wants it to be. Some of the machinery at the back looks to be completely one of a kind, and no matter how lucky he's been in getting materials and tools at the Potter Agency, he's never had the opportunity to use tools like  _these._ Tom looks equally impressed.

"We call these design spaces workstations, and each student is allocated one and keeps it for the entire year. They're not yet ready to see, but each workstation comes equipped with a high end computer system, almost any tool one would need and plenty of workspace. Should a student want to add more to their station, they are free to do so. Unless they present some sort of risk, students are free to alter their stations however they see fit," McGonagall explains, gesturing towards the cubicles.

"I can do  _so_ much with these sorts of resources," Tom breathes. Harry gets the feeling it's not really directed at him, but he's too excited not to answer anyway.

"You can make everything, completely from scratch," Harry says with awe. His mind is already brimming with the possibilities of what can be accomplished in this room.

"Okay!" McGonagall says loudly with a clap of her hands. "Onto the reason why the support students are required to being two weeks earlier than the other courses." She approaches the teachers desk near the blackboard, atop which is a large, straightened stack of paper.

"Upon their acceptance into UA's hero course, students are asked to send in a design application for their hero costumes. Historically at UA, our hero and support departments grow  _together._ When a hero learns something new about their quirk, or perhaps how to use it in a different way, they often need adjustments made to their costumes, and thus come to the support department for help. The first year support students start two weeks earlier than the rest of the school to give them time to design and craft the first year hero student costumes," McGonagall explains.

"Some applications are more specific and complex than others, and some will require very advanced skills. As such, the applications have been graded by the staff and allocated to the students in order of their ranking and proven capabilities in the entrance exams. There are twenty-one support students, and forty-two hero students, so each student here will receive two applications, and have two costumes to design."

_I wonder who will get Momo, and Nick?_

"So we have homework before term even starts?" One boy asks, sounding annoyed.

Professor McGonagall locks the boy in place with a firm stare. "If you want to succeed in  _this_ school, you will have to work hard. Harder than you have ever needed to in your entire life. If you want to spend the next two weeks before term enjoying a lazy holiday, then feel free; nobody here will tell you what to do. But if you choose that course of action, it will put you behind, and we can, at any time, decide that you do not have what it takes to continue studying at UA," she clarifies. The boy withers, but her tone suggests that she's trying to educate rather than criticise.

Harry catches several disappointed faces amongst his new classmates, but Harry's downright excited. Even if he might prefer to be designing things for his own use, he still relishes the challenge of designing a hero's gear, especially considering the fact that he's tied for the highest rank in support, and will get the most difficult designs of the lot.

"So, in order of rankings then - tied for first, Harry Potter and Tom Riddle," she calls out, reaching down for the first several applications from the stack in front of her.

Harry and Tom step over to receive them, and neither wastes any time before they've got their heads down, pouring over every detail.

"Rank three, Hermione Granger," McGonagall calls out just as Harry stops listening.  _'Katsuki Bakugou,'_ reads the name on the first application.

_Explosion quirk? That could prove difficult… I'll need to find a material resistant to the blasts, not to mention the heat from the chemical reaction._

"You look confused, Harry," Tom says next to him. "Perhaps you should hand those over to a  _real_ designer." From the impassive look on his face, whether he's just teasing or being completely serious is impossible to determine. Either way, he's still trying to get in Harry's head.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm just confused because we were supposed to be getting  _difficult_ designs," Harry quips.

It's not a happy or joking sort of a smile that makes its way onto Tom face, but is instead more like approval, like Tom respects his answer. From only a matter of minutes spend with him, its abundantly clear that Tom is going to be a challenge.  _He's going to come after me with everything he's got._

Harry slips the first application underneath the second and begins to looks over it, instead. This one belongs to a Denki Kaminari, and it doesn't look even close to as complex or thorough as Bakugou's. This second design mostly just describes what it should look like aesthetically, rather than any sort of practicality. Still, finding a material that will survive his electrocution quirk without also hindering it is still likely to be an adequate challenge.

"Okay!" McGonagall says when she's given out the last of the applications. "Now that everyone has their applications, the tour shall end here. I would advise every student to have a firm design plan in place by the time term begins, because once it does, you will only have a limited window in which to finish actually crafting it. If you'll all now follow me, I'll show you back to the entrance," she continues, leading them out of the classroom and back into the hallway.

Once out of the classroom, she stops again and turns to face the group. "Before I forget, I should also remind you that there are still a few dorms left on the campus, should anyone wish one."

 _Dorms? Since when is UA a boarding school?_ Harry's never heard it before, despite how much sense it makes. After all, UA is the most prestigious and highly reputed school around, so surely there must be people who travel just to attend. Where would they live if not on campus?

It's an intriguing idea. The Potter Agency isn't even all that far from UA, but knowing now that there are dorms on the campus, and available dorms at that… it sounds too good to pass up.

 _Should I apply?_ No matter how many reasons he can think of for not doing so, he can think of just as many reasons why it's a good idea. He wants to spends as much time as possible working on his designs, and on Omni, especially, and that will be made much easier living so class to the support department's resources. Even when he thinks about it, his reasons to stay at home don't seem so important anyway. He'd mostly be staying for his family, and they hadn't even cared enough to come to his orientation.

Harry chases after McGonagall. "Professor?" he asks upon reaching her side. "What was that about dorms?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a very exciting chapter, really, just introduces a few things. Either way, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, yes, I will be de-aging some characters.
> 
> Once more, thanks for all the responses I’ve gotten so far. Till next week.


	5. First Days

**Chapter 5 - First Days**

 

It's strange waking up in the small dorm room for the first time. It's like the feeling of waking up in a hotel and remembering that you're on holiday, only Harry knows that this is permanent. His new dorm room, or more like a studio apartment really, isn't very big. It consists of just two single beds, a small kitchen area and a bathroom. Still it's quite comfortable, especially since he's not to get a roommate until term begins for the rest of the school.

It's going to take getting used to knowing that his parents aren't even living in the same building as him anymore, but that's nothing compared to the feeling of not living with his brother. Despite the changes in their relationship over the years, his brother had  _always_ been nearby, since the moment they were born. Hell, before that, really, even side by side in the womb.

His family hadn't been too happy to see him go, in the end. James and Lily had accepted that he wanted to succeed in UA, and eventually allowed him to go, but Nick had put up far more of a fight.

" _But why do you need to move out? I'm going to UA too, and I'm still going to be living here"_ he'd said. No amount of reasoning had convinced his brother that it was a good idea.

He'd almost managed to convince Harry to stay with his pleas, too.  _"I know we've grown apart, Harry"_ he'd said sadly.  _"But how can we move past that if we don't even live in the same house anymore?"_  That argument had come far too close to making him change his mind. He'd tried to counter that they could still spend time together at school, and that he was allowed visitors in the dorm, but nothing Harry said could change the way his brother feels about it.

Looking back, it's probably because Nick knows that being able to spend more time focusing on his studies by living on campus is only the smallest part of the reason he'd decided to actually move out. Harry loves his parents, of course, but he's beyond tired of feeling like the 'second son,' and if Nick can read Harry as well as Harry can read him, he very likely knows it. But waking up in the dorm won't stay strange forever, and he's got more important things to worry about than the way his brother feels about his moving out.

As it turned out, Tom had also applied for a place in the dorms, and had moved in the day before, at the same time as Harry himself. Thankfully, UA's tendency to organise dorm students by placing them with students in other courses had worked in Harry's favour. Tom had seemed so competitive at the orientation that Harry would have to be on his guard around him all the time in class; so the last thing he wants is to have to put up with that in his own room as well.

Harry slides out of his new bed and into the bathroom, getting ready for his first day as an official UA support student. He's eager to get started. He's spent the last two weeks drafting an effective design for the hero costumes he's been assigned, and now he just wants to get them out of the way. It'd been interesting at first, working on tools meant for other people, but in the end, they hadn't posed too much of a challenge. There's a part of him that's worried he's overlooked something, given their ease, but that's just nerves, and the more logical side of him knows his designs are exactly what the hero students asked for.

Well, maybe not exactly, in the case of Kaminari. All he had asked for was a costume that could survive his electricity quirk at full power. It's not like Harry has seen the boy's power in action, but a quirk like his has real potential, with the right tools. It's a shame that Harry isn't allowed to make adjustments that the hero students hadn't actually asked for. Harry could have given Kaminari far more combat viability than he would have otherwise.

But the faster he can finish the costumes for the new hero students, the faster he can get back to his own projects. He steps out of the shower and dresses, making sure to grab his design plans to show his homeroom teacher, whoever it will be.  _Snape._ Harry chastises himself for hoping it won't be.  _It's definitely going to be Snape._

He walks out the door and into the hallway of the small dorm building. UA isn't known for being a boarding school, so there's only about twenty dorm rooms on the entire campus, organised into two different buildings side by side not far from the main school building.

As it had the day before, it strikes Harry how beautiful the grounds of the school are. The lawns are well manicured and green, and the gardens randomly placed around the place are tended well. The grounds are also far bigger than he had realised. While the school building itself looks as big as any skyscraper, it doesn't take up much space, whereas the grounds run for miles. The grounds takes up a huge area of the city, and they're littered with different facilities, most of them related to the hero course.

As he moves towards the main building, Harry can just make out three students walking through the entrance gates to the school, obviously new support students like himself. He jogs towards them, eager to meet some of his new classmates. The only one he has properly talked to so far is Tom, and he's looking forward to meeting someone who might be less…  _competitive._

A girl with a bushy mane of brown hair is waving at him emphatically. Harry waves awkwardly back, still jogging towards them.

"Hi!" she says happily when he's a little closer.

He's within a few metres of the three when the one on the right, a girl with pink hair and strange yellow-eyes wags a knowing finger in his direction. "You're Harry Potter!"

Harry stops, stunned. "Uhm, yeah" he responds. "You know me?"

The girl shrugs her shoulders. I was looking out for you when they called your name at orientation. You and Tom Riddle that is," she explains. "After all, you two are the ones to beat, right?"

 _So much for meeting people less competitive._ Harry resists the urge to sigh out loud.

"But that doesn't mean we can't be friends," the girl with the bushy mane of hair interjects, stepping around the pink-haired girl and holding out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger," she says. Harry shakes her hand. "The  _obnoxious_  one is Mei Hatsume," Hermione motions to the pink-haired girl besides her. "And the quiet one is Terry Boot" she continues, this time introducing the boy on her other side. He's a plain looking boy with short brown hair. He's clearly very shy, simply half lifting his arm and giving a slight wave in his direction.

"Nice to meet you," Harry says with an incline of his head.

Mei steps closer and looks into Harry's eyes, her serious face only inches from his. He feels the blood rush to his cheeks. When she's as close as she is, Harry can see that her eyes are patterned like the scope of a rifle.  _Must be her quirk._

Suddenly she grins cheekily, and lifts a finger to poke him on the tip of the nose. "I'm coming for ya, cutey," she chirps before stepping around him and skipping towards the main building. Harry lifts his hand slowly and touches the tip of his nose automatically, trying to work out what just happened.

"Don't mind her," Hermione says casually. "She's competitive and unpredictable, but ultimately harmless. The three of us went to junior high together."

"Oh, cool," Harry says. He's just glad to be meeting people who don't seem to care overmuch about his ranking. Disregarding Mei, of course.

"What about you?" Hermione asks. "Is anyone you went to school with here too?"

Harry shakes his head. "No. Well not yet at least. I know a couple of people going into the hero course."

"Great! Who are they? Maybe one of us is designing their first costume!" Hermione says excitedly, clapping her hands together in anticipation.

"My brother Nick Potter, and Momo Yaoyorozu," Harry answers.

Hermione turns to Terry. "Isn't one of yours Yaoyorozu?" she asks.

Terry nods slightly, and his face turns slightly pink. "Do you know her well?" he asks quietly, almost inaudibly.

Harry nods. "Very well."

"Do you mind if I ask… well… her costume application says it should be designed… sort of…" Terry tries, his cheeks reddening with every word.

Harry begins laughing. "Skimpy?" he offers.

Terry nods with a scarlet face.

"Don't worry about it. Follow the instructions she's set and she'll be perfectly happy." Knowing Momo, her application would be flawless, including every tiny little detail of what she wants done. "Trust me, Momo's  _very_ comfortable with her body, she won't mind if it's a bit revealing."

"See Terry? I said you should just follow her instructions. After all, they were quite explicit," Hermione says.

Harry can't help but be amused at the description of Momo's design application. He can picture it exactly. She would have provided any and all specifications needed throughout the design process, likely even down to suggestions about what materials would work best. In reality, she could have designed and created the costume herself, but she's not the type to step on anyone's toes.

"We should get to class," Hermione says, urging the three of them forward into the building. "Speaking of, what class are _you_  in Harry?"

"1F," Harry says, remembering the information from the letter sent after the orientation.

Hermione smiles widely. "Me too! I'm glad I'll know someone now. I wonder who our homeroom teacher will be?" she says excitedly.

 _Snape._ "Me too. Hopefully someone not too strict" he says, knowing that he's not going to be that lucky. "What about you, Terry? Are you in 1F too?"

Terry shakes his head, but it's Hermione that answers the question for him. "Terry is in class 1H, with Mei," she explains.

_Well at least I'm not in a class with her. Just knowing there's one person constantly trying to challenge me is enough._

The sign saying Development Studios hangs outside the three classrooms as they step into the hall. The first of the three is class 1F. The door is open, and Harry can see several students already inside, but he can't see the homeroom teacher from out in the hall. Hermione bids Terry farewell before stepping into the room with Harry.

_Damn it._

Harry had  _known_ it was going to be Snape he had as a homeroom teacher, yet some part of him still hoped it in vain it could be someone else. Sure enough, the black feathered man is sitting at a desk at the front of the room. He looks up at Harry and Hermione with a bored face.

"Take your seats. You'll find both workstations and classroom desks have been assigned specifically to each student. Your names are on the desks," he says in an oily voice.

Harry's about to go and search for his desk when he spots Tom sitting at his own at the opposite side of the room. Tom flicks a finger towards the desk next to him. There's a small slip of paper with Harry's name sitting atop it. Harry approaches and slides into his seat.

"Took your time," Tom says. "Putting last minute touches on your designs, I suppose."

Harry rolls his eyes.  _Really, already?_

"Just the opposite," Harry answers casually. "I'm well prepared, thought I'd let myself sleep in."

Harry spots the tiniest hint of a smile appear at the edge of Tom's mouth as the last student arrives to the classroom. He finds his seat, the only one left available, right away.

"Welcome to Support class 1F," Snape drawls, standing up behind his desk. "You will recognise me from the interviews from the day of the entrance exam, but nevertheless I am Professor Severus Snape, and I will be your homeroom teacher."

"All seven of you scored in the top fifty percent in the entrance exams. Accordingly, I will hold you and the work you present to a very high standard. Anyone who isn't willing to put in the work does not belong at this school or in my class." There isn't so much as a peep out of the seven students.

"You all know why you're here. You were each given two design applications for the new hero student costumes. Is there anyone here who has yet to complete their design plans?" Snape asks, his glaring eyes scanning each student. Not one of them raises their hands. Under the look Snape is giving them, Harry doesn't think he'd raise his hand even if he  _hadn't_ finished.

"None of you are  _exceptionally_ lazy then," he decides, not sounding the least bit happy about it. Harry gets the feeling he almost  _wants_ someone to discipline. "When I call your name, you will present your projects in front of the class. I tell you now that I hold the right to reject any aspect of your design plan and send you back to the drawing board," he says warningly.

"In order of their scores on the entrance exam, Harry… Potter" Snape say slowly, heavily enunciating his surname.

Harry doesn't miss the look of anger that crosses Tom's face that Harry's name is called first. Technically, they were equal first in the exam, and either of their names could have been called first. If he's honest with himself, it would have irked Harry just as much if Snape had called Tom's name first. Harry rises from his seat and reaches into his pocket for the two small devices he brought with him. He walks to the front of the room and places both circular devices on Snape's desk.

Snape lets out an exasperated sigh. "What are those, Mr Potter?"

Harry shrugs. "My designs" he says, reaching down to push a button on the side of the circular device. A three-dimensional projection springs into view above it. It's roughly in the shape of a grenade, with an arm sized hole in its centre, revealing its purpose as a gauntlet.

Snape huffs. "Really, Mr Potter? Holograms? A simple portfolio, with maybe a few sketches would have sufficed," he says, very clearly annoyed.

Harry shrugs again. "I find it easier to visualise my designs this way." It's a true statement. As three-dimensional projections Harry can see what his designs will look like when finished, plus the individual parts that make them up. It's perfect for a presentation, since it means he can show the entire design down to the smallest parts that make it up.

His classmates look on the projections with amazement. Harry can admit that his projectors are more advanced than what the public have access to, as well as the fact that they can be interacted with, so he's not that surprised to see their reaction. In truth, it's part of the reason he'd decided to present his designs this way. If every student in the support department is determined to come after his number one rank, then  _he's_  determined to show them the level they'll have to reach to do it.

There's only one student who doesn't look at all impressed. Instead, Tom is scowling at the projection. It's not quite anger on his face, more like frustration.

 

* * *

 

"Well, today was quite enlightening, wouldn't you say?" Tom says as they leave the support area of UA's main building. Their first day of classes has just ended.

"I guess it was," Harry answers. He doesn't want to admit it, but Harry knows  _exactly_ to what Tom is referring. The biggest takeaway from the first day is the sheer disparity there is between he and Tom and the rest of the class. He doesn't want to doubt the ability of his classmates, but as the day wore on it had become glaringly obvious that Harry and Tom are far beyond their skills.

"Your design for the grenade bracers is impressive," Tom says. "You came up with an absorbent for his nitroglycerin sweat which both keeps it stable  _and_ keeps it in liquid form."

Harry shrugs.  _He might be trying to butter me up into a false sense of security._

"You are aware that it was Alfred Nobel, the man the Nobel prize is named for, that first started dealing with nitroglycerin and turned it into dynamite?" Tom asks. "He didn't do it nearly as effectively as you did."

Harry shrugs again. "Science has made a lot of progress since  _1867_."

"True enough." Harry can't even guess at Tom's latest tactic. He'd started the day off with small digs and assumptions about Harry's lack of ability, but now all of a sudden, he's complimenting him?

"What about the outside shell?" Tom asks. "Quite ingenious to use your own take on a titanium alloy. You added a small amount of tungsten to protect the bracers from the heat of the exothermic reaction of the nitroglycerin explosion, but the Titanium will still keep it strong and light."

Harry's sick of the other boy beating around the bush. "Yeah, that's right. But what's your point?"

"The  _point_ is that you are an exceptionally gifted designer. We both know that there was nobody in that room, probably Professor Snape included, that can even come close to what you and I can accomplish." Harry still feels like Tom's holding back. If the other boy is going to be creative about the ways he tries to psych out Harry, he'd prefer to know it upfront.

"And?" Harry prompts.

Tom stops walking, causing Harry to stop with him. Tom is looking very seriously at him. "And I have a question for you" he says. "Are you truly quirkless? Is it not possible that you have some sort of intelligence quirk?"

 _He's threatened by me_. Harry's not sure he could beat Tom if it came down to it, either. Tom's two designs are utterly flawless, as Harry's are. Out of their class, theirs are the only designs that Snape had allowed to begin construction with no adjustments at all to their initial plans.

"No. I'm definitely quirkless. My toe has two joints, and my brain has been tested extensively. Every scan has come back completely normal, and my family has never had anyone with an intelligence quirk. I've had to work hard to know everything I know," Harry explains. It's not the first time someone's asked him. Even if they don't mean it to be, the question is insulting; it assumes he hasn't worked hard for everything he can do, and nothing could be further from the truth.

Tom begins shaking his head. "I don't know why I bothered asking, if you're just going to  _lie_ anyway," he accuses angrily.

Harry is slightly taken aback. "I'm not-" he begins, but Tom is already storming off ahead of him.

_What the hell was that about?_

Harry doesn't bother trying to catch him. He was going to have to try to ditch him anyway, to go where he wants to go. Before he had left home, Remus had made Harry swear that he would continue his self-defence training. There was no way Harry was going to let it go anyway, not with his newly found resolve to become a hero, but he's still going to keep the promise of doing something, no matter how little, every single day.

Harry turns and walks the opposite of the way Tom had gone, and further towards the hero building. According to his map, there's a gym and a dojo on the bottom floors of that area of the building. He's not sure if he's allowed to use it, being a support student, but since there's no other students currently in the building, it doesn't seem like there could be any harm in it.

It doesn't take him long to get there. Both the gym and the dojo are located on the second floor, across the hall from each other. Both doors are shut. He's not that interested in the gym, at least not for the moment. After his conversation with Tom, he just wants to let out some of his frustration. He tests the doorhandle for the dojo. It's unlocked.

It's very much like the dojo in the Potter Agency, though far larger. On the far side of the room there are several punching bags and wooden dummies meant for martial arts training. He doesn't even bother getting changed into something more appropriate. Until the rest of the school joins them they don't have to wear their uniform, so he's already wearing something comfortable.

It suddenly strikes him how much easier training would be if he had a sparring partner, but right now, he has nobody.  _Maybe I can convince Momo to spar with me when she gets here._ For now, he has to settle for the punching bags and the wooden dummy's. He drops into a fighting stance and lashes out at the nearby hanging bag with a kick. Again and again he strikes, a flurry of punches and kicks that send the bag swinging wildly from the roof.

"Very sloppy form," a voice says from behind him.

Harry's jumps involuntarily. Harry had no idea anybody was watching him, and he has no idea how long he's been there. The man's face is barely visible behind his abnormally long white scarf and his lank black hair. There's something about him that seems familiar.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there," Harry says.

The man doesn't move, and his facial expression doesn't change at all. He simply stares at Harry with tired looking eyes. "Your form is all wrong. You have poor balance and no finesse. There's really not much point in you continuing the way you are," he says. Without another word, he turns and stalks out of the room, leaving Harry staring confusedly after him.

 

* * *

 

The first week at UA passes with very little difference from the first day. Every day Harry wakes and jogs around the campus, heads to the dojo and the gym, and finally to class, where his classmates are all hard at work on the hero costumes.

What Tom had said after their first class has become clearer with every passing moment. While Tom and Harry have created every part of their designs from scratch, right down to the smallest details, the other students in the class seemed more often than not to be simply putting together pre-created shapes of common materials. The designs would certainly do their job, or Snape wouldn't have approved them, but compared to Harry and Tom's designs, they might as well be store-bought.

There is a drawback to having more complex and thought out designs though. While both Tom and Harry's designs will prove far more effective than the others, they also take much more time and effort to actually  _make_. For Bakugou's gauntlets especially, Harry has to shape his own titanium alloy, create the absorbent to stabilise the nitroglycerin and make sure the explosions generated will be directed in the right way, something that has proven more complex than his initial design anticipated.

Thus, every day the bell chimes and the rest of the class leave, and Harry and Tom stay, making sure that their creations are going to be everything they promised. Even Snape leaves, allowing the two to work silently into the early hours of the evening. That's precisely where the two of them are now, both in their respective workstations.

Tom's barely spoken to Harry since accusing him of having a quirk. It's strange though, since Harry can't feel any anger from the other boy, just a disinterest in speaking to him. He's still cordial when asking to borrow a tool or ask for time on a machine Harry's using, he just doesn't seem to want to say anything beyond that, almost like he's stuck in a deep train of thought.

Harry's getting tired. It's nearing eight o'clock at night, and he's not stopped working since class started that morning. He could assuredly keep going if he had to, but this is his first design at UA, and he's determined to make it perfect, which means there's no room for mistakes made out of exhaustion. He sets down the mostly completed gauntlet on his workbench and rises from his seat. He walks out of his cubicle and sticks his head over the small wall of Tom's. "I'm leaving for the night," he says.

Tom looks up from his own project, a fiddly looking contraption meant to assist with a navel laser quirk. "Okay," he answers simply, looking at Harry confusedly, as if he's uncertain why Harry even bothered telling him. Harry walks away towards the door before Tom stops him. "Wait!" Tom calls out over his cubicle. "I'm finishing up too. I'll come with you."

_All of a sudden he's talking to me?_

Tom leaves his cubicle and joins Harry by the door. For several moments after leaving the classroom there's complete silence, they simply walk side by side.

"I've never known anyone like you before," Tom says tightly, breaking the awkward silence. His face is turned away. Harry can't tell if it's out of embarrassment or something else entirely. He doesn't answer.

"For my entire life, I've always been smarter than everybody else. I love that, but it makes life boring. I thought that coming to UA would mean I was always with people who would challenge me intellectually, and life would finally become more exciting."

 _Why is he opening up to me all of a sudden?_ Even if he's confused, Harry can understand what that feels like. He's never been bored with it like what Tom describes, but he's used to feeling like the smartest person in the room, at least in terms of what he knows. He doesn't want to be arrogant and think he's smarter than everyone, he simply has a greater focus on academic subjects and how to apply the knowledge that comes from it.

"But it's not like that at all. I came here thinking that I was going to crush all my opposition and emerge as the clear best designer at the end of third year. But there is no opposition, nobody to challenge me intellectually."

Harry's about to argue against him before Tom is continuing.

"Nobody except you," he says, finally turning to look at Harry. "You're the smartest person I've ever met, and I doubt I'll ever meet anyone who could challenge me as much as you could."

' _Could'_ Harry can't help but hear that word in particular.  _Why is he saying 'could' instead of 'can?'_

"But I'm finding that I don't actually want to challenge you" Tom says, seeming uncomfortable. "I want to work  _with_ you." Tom stops walking, forcing Harry to stop next to him.

"Look, I don't know what this is" Harry begins. "Is this just some attempt to get me to lower my guard so you can take first place?"

Tom scoffs loudly, almost a laugh. "Not even close," he says cryptically. "I'd hoped you might have come to the same conclusion I have already."

"And what conclusion is that?" Harry asks suspiciously.

At that, Tom actually does laugh. "That the rankings don't matter in the slightest!"

Harry's eyebrows crease together.  _Then he's definitely trying to get me to lower my guard. Just a few days ago he was doing everything he could to beat me, and now suddenly he doesn't care?_ He's not buying it.

"You need to think bigger! Everything we do back there is kind of trivial. We're making mere toys in the end, and they're grading us on that. Both you and I are capable of so much  _more._ Imagine what we could accomplish if we put our minds together," Tom says, waving his hands around enthusiastically. It's the most energy he's shown in the time Harry's known him.

"You want to collaborate?" Harry asks, surprised. "It's a bit late isn't it? I mean both our designs are already almost completed, and I don't know that either mine or yours could be improved much by the other's input," Harry says.

Tom's shaking his head with vigour. "No no! Think bigger!" he exclaims, raising his hands up above his head. "We could make things that are, right now, only theoretical _._ Between the two of us, I think we could accomplish  _anything."_

Harry can't help but laugh along at Tom's newly found passion. "If you say so," he says. He likes this side of Tom, less serious, more fun and energetic.

"I  _do_ say so. When we're done with these costumes, just work with me for a while. You'll see that this was meant to happen. People like you and I don't just meet out of coincidence. We were  _meant_ to meet," Tom says.

Harry looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Like prophecy," Tom adds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too exciting happening in this chapter either, but the story is moving forwards towards some of the more exciting stuff. Even so, I hope you enjoyed it. Till next week!


	6. Shouto and Shouta

**Chapter 6 – Shouto and Shouta**

 

Harry feels the sweat fly off his brow as he spins, lifting his leg and lashing out at the punching bag. He transitions smoothly and aims low, jabbing into the bag quickly with his fists. He's been in the dojo for hours now, ever since finally completing both hero costumes earlier that afternoon. It's a Sunday, the final day of holidays for most students who aren't the first-year support class. The rest of the school is due to begin the next day.

Since the rest of the school will be there the next day, Harry is determined to spend as much time as possible in the dojo, just in case he doesn't get the chance with the hero students returning. It's not that he won't be allowed to use the dojo once the hero students return, but it's been nice having it to himself for two weeks.

Harry strikes the bag again with a frustrated grunt. Despite coming to the dojo every day for two weeks, he's not been able to forget the criticisms of the strange man on his first day. Such a random comment the man had made, but Harry's been plagued by self-doubt ever since. Every punch he's thrown, he suddenly feels like he's was doing it wrong. Every kick feels out of place and awkward.

Logically he knows he's moving the same as he ever did, and he's not usually one to doubt himself so easily, but there was just something about the stranger that makes Harry heed his words. Not the giving up part of course, Harry not about to do that, but he is certainly going to try harder to have better 'form, balance and finesse,' whatever the man means by that.

"Quite dedicated, aren't you?" a familiar voice sounds from near the door. It sounds more like an observation than a question.

Harry jumps slightly, but not as bad as he had two weeks prior when the man had intruded on his training. It bothers Harry how easily he can sneak up behind him, but sure enough, the man with the long black hair is standing in the doorway.

"Didn't want to listen when I advised you to give up?" the man asks.

Harry shrugs. "Is there something wrong with learning to defend myself?" he asks in return.

The man steps into the room. Harry can see his bloodshot eyes, still mostly hidden by his scarf and hair. "Depends on the reasons for learning," he says.

They both stare at each other in silence for a few awkward moments. "You're Eraserhead" Harry says, finally recognising him. He can't believe he didn't recognise him sooner. Being an underground hero who avoids publicity at all costs, it's not really all that surprising, but Harry simply  _knew_ he had seen the man somewhere before. Eraserhead doesn't answer straight away, but that's not a denial either, and Harry knows he's right.

"I'll tell you exactly what I told you two weeks ago. Give up. You will never be the fighter you want to be the way you are now."

 _The way I am? Does he mean quirkless?_ If there's anything that can make Harry go from utterly calm to furiously enraged, it's assuming he's helpless because he doesn't have a quirk. "You don't even know what I'm capable of!" Harry snarls. "Why don't you test me yourself before you judge what I can do!"

The man raises an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd be so quick to anger… perhaps I struck a nerve?"

Harry glares.

"If you're so eager to be shown what you lack, I'll gladly spar with you," Eraserhead says. He steps over so that he's opposite Harry in the middle of the room. He makes no move to go into a fighting stance, just stands still with his hands by his sides.

_What kind of stance is that? And_ _**I'm** _ _the one with the bad form?_

Harry's not usually the first to strike in spars like this, especially against an untested opponent, but he's too angry to hold back. He lunges forward with a strong kick. As fast as he's moving, he's certain he's going to hit Eraserhead, even if the man is able to block it.

Harry underestimates him. Eraserhead is much, much faster than he is. At the last possible second he raises a hand and simply pushes the incoming leg aside, throwing Harry's kick harmlessly off to the side.

"Remember what I said about balance?" Eraserhead asks, making no effort to hide the smugness in his voice. Harry lands with several awkward hops to remain on his feet and turns quickly with an outstretched arm, the man's comment only pushing his anger further.

Eraserhead catches the incoming blow with ease and pulls Harry in, twisting it up behind his back. "You've obviously been trained by  _someone_ … but they've not done a great job," he says quietly in Harry's ear. Eraserhead lets go of his arm and pushes him forward.

"Remus is a great teacher!" Harry argues, turning to glare at his opponent after stumbling forward.

"Remus huh…" Eraserhead mumurs. "The former hero Moony? That would make sense. A talented man, but certainly not the one who should be teaching you." Eraserhead is staring into the distance as he speaks, clearly distracted thinking about Remus. It's a good moment to take the advantage.

Harry lunges forward. Eraserhead recovers himself quickly though, and grabs Harry's outstretched hands to pull him closer, so that their faces are only inches apart. He hooks his right leg behind Harry's and pushes him forward again. Harry lands awkwardly on his behind.

"No, definitely not the one to teach you," Eraserhead repeats, as if Harry's last move confirmed what he already knows.

"What's so wrong with Remus being my teacher?" Harry asks, not even bothering now to get off the floor. He's dripping with sweat and effort, but most of the energy has already left his body after hours spent in the dojo.

 _He beat me so easily. I didn't even get close to landing a solid hit… and he's not even put in any effort._ It's an incredibly discouraging thought. After so many years of trying to learn to defend himself, the difference between what he can do and what a pro hero can do seems unattainable.

"Because no matter how much he tries, Moony can't teach you something he hasn't experienced himself. In a fight, he uses the power and brute force of his werewolf quirk to defeat his opponents," Eraserhead answers. "You  _can't_  do that. You need to rely solely on excessively honed technique. Moony can always fall back on his power if skill fails him, and he would never try to fight a villain without his quirk. Again, that's something you simply  _can't_ do."

_So trying to replicate Remus' fighting style is pointless for me? I've just wasted years of my life?_

Harry pushes off the ground and manages to kneel with one knee on the ground, his body supported by a hand on the ground. "But Remus told me he was a martial arts champion when he was in school…" he says, perplexed.

Eraserhead nods. "Yes, I'd believe that from the way he's taught  _you_."

This only serves to confuse Harry even more, his eyebrows drawing together.  _Is he trying to compliment me now?_ At face value, the words  _sound_  like a compliment, being compared to a martial arts champion, but somehow Eraserhead makes it sound like a hindrance.

"You move as though you'rein a fighting competition. Real fighting is different," Eraserhead explains simply.

"Different how? I don't understand how I can practice for years and not even stance a  _chance_ in a fight" Harry complains, the hand supporting him on the ground forming a fist.

Eraserhead sighs loudly. "You didn't stand a chance in  _this_ fight. As mediocre as your skills are, you would do well against those with no self-defence training."

Harry shakes his head.  _Fantastic… so I'm capable of fighting those who haven't trained, and of those, probably only the ones with quirks not suited to combat._ He looks up at Eraserhead. "You know, you're being very ambiguous" he says.

Eraserhead says nothing, but he stretches out a hand towards Harry. Harry takes it and is pulled back to his feet.

"But I think I know what you're getting at. Remus' style is effective, but not so much for me. I need to find a different style of fighting," Harry reasons. It's disheartening to see how much better Eraserhead is, but he's not about to give up just because of it. If Eraserhead can reach that level of skill, so can he.

"Actually, I believe I recommended you should quit altogether," Eraserhead says.

"You also said that I'd never be the fighter I want to be  _the way I am,_ " Harry corrects. Despite what he thought earlier, Harry no longer believes it was meant to reference his lack of quirk, but instead his lack of proper fighting skill. "But that means I  _can_ become the fighter I want to be, I just need to change the way I go about it…"

Eraserhead chuckles softly and shakes his head. "Stubborn," he says, his tone landing somewhere between admonishment and approval. Harry shrugs his shoulders. He's already decided what's to be the first step in changing his fighting style.

"All I need is someone to show me the way," Harry says quietly, talking more to himself than to Eraserhead. "Someone who  _doesn't_ rely on their quirk in their fighting… someone with the same sort of body type as me, who focuses on speed and skill rather than brute strength." Harry finally looks back up at Eraserhead. "Someone like you," he says.

Behind his long hair, Harry can just make out one of the eyebrows of the other man as it rises in question. "Not just stubborn, but forward too" Eraserhead says. "But why should I give up my own time, which is _already_ limited, to train you?"

Harry doesn't really have an answer for that. He can't think of a single thing he has to offer that the other man would want. Then again, he is a hero course teacher, and maybe just Harry's desire to get into the hero course will be enough for him. It seems unlikely, but it's truly the best he's got. Eraserhead will only be the second person to hear about Harry's desire to join the hero course.

"I want to join the hero course," Harry says simply. "Every moment I spend right now is focused on achieving that goal. All I can do is ask for your help. Teach me… please teach me," he pleads. Eraserhead lets out a deep breath. Harry can feel himself growing tense as he waits for the other man's answer.

"You  _want_ to become a hero?" Eraserhead asks. He shakes his head once. "That's most definitely not good enough."

 _Damn it._ As soon as he's finished speaking, he turns his back on Harry and walks out the door, once again leaving Harry starting confusedly after him.

 

* * *

 

It's almost sunset by the time Harry returns to the dorm. The building is normally eerily quiet, but today Harry can hear the voices and ruckus when he's still a good hundred metres away. With everything that had just happened with Eraserhead, he'd almost forgotten that the rest of the boarding students would finally be moving in. He's actually a little nervous. It's not like he spends a great deal of time in his room, instead finding himself most of the time in the workshop or the dojo, but having a good roommate will still make his time at UA all the better.

He could so easily end up with someone hateful for his roommate. Most people don't care about quirklessness out in the real world, but in his experience, teenagers, and for some reason hero hopefuls especially, could be unbelievably cruel. The last thing he wants is to have a Dudley Dursley or Seamus Finnegan type living in the same room as him. Even the thought of it is completely unacceptable.

Harry has to practically push his way through the crying mothers bidding farewell to their children just to get inside. It's no better inside. Despite the fact that there aren't many dorms, the hallways are crowded with families, and suitcases clutter what little room there is left. It's quite a struggle to reach his room through it all, at the back end of the hall on the second floor, but eventually he manages. His door is wide open, meaning that his new roommate is likely already inside.

Harry steps into the doorway. Surprisingly, his new roommate isn't the first person he sees in his room. The first person he sees is none other than Professor McGonagall. She's talking to someone in front of her, but Harry can't make out who it is. She turns as he steps further into the room, clearly able to hear him approach.

"Good timing, Mr Potter," she says. She steps aside, giving Harry his first look at who must be his new roommate. It's obvious from a first glance that he a has a quirk, though it doesn't appear to be any animal or monster quirk, and he appears completely human.

Most obvious and peculiar is the fact that he has two different hair colours, perfectly split down the middle. The left side of his hair is a deep red. The right side is a solid white, but somehow it's a different white than what an elderly person would have, still appearing young, healthy and somehow vibrant. It's not just the hair though, the boy's eyes are two different colours as well. His left eye is a bright blue, more like turquoise, really. His right eye is a simple grey colour. Both eyes are set into an attractive face, his skin completely unblemished, if it weren't for the large red scar covering his left eye.

"This is your new roommate, Shouto Todoroki," McGonagall says. "Shouto, this is Harry Potter."

_Todoroki? But that's…_

Shouto's face remains emotionless as he looks at Harry. There's a few seconds of awkward silence before Harry takes the initiative, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. Shoto seems to consider the hand for a moment before he reaches out and grasps it with his own.

"It's nice to meet you," Harry says happily. Shouto doesn't answer, just shakes Harry's hand and nods his head.

"Well I should go and help some of the other students. Welcome to UA Mr Todoroki," McGonagall says, practically gliding out of their room and shutting the door behind her. Shouto turns away and kneels over his open suitcase, clearly unperturbed by the sudden silence in the room. It might not bother Shouto, but it definitely bothers Harry.

"So, Todoroki, any relation to-" Harry begins to ask.

"He's my father," Shouto answers shortly, cutting Harry off before he's even finished asking the question.

_So my roommate is the son of the number two hero?_

"I see," Harry says. "Well I've been sleeping in the bed on the right, but I made sure to wash everything in case you prefer sleeping on that side-"

"The other bed will be fine," Shouto says, picking up a neat pile of clothes from his suitcase and placing them in the chest at the end of his new bed. Harry's lips tighten. If the first few minutes are anything to go by, trying to talk to Shoto is going to be like pulling teeth.

"So what made you decide to take a room in the dorms, if you don't mind me asking," Harry asks. "I mean, Endeavour lives in the area, doesn't he?" Shouto doesn't answer right away, but he does stop what he's doing, simply sitting still with his back still turned to Harry.

_Maybe I'm being a little too nosy._

"It's complicated," he eventually answers. "Why did  _you_ decide to live in the dorms?" he asks, still not facing Harry. "I assume you're of the same Potters as the Potter Agency, and that's in this area too."

_Yep. Definitely too nosy._

"Uhh… It's complicated," Harry ends up giving the same answer. Shouto doesn't sound angry, yet it's obvious that Harry had said the wrong thing just from the new energy in the room.

_This isn't a good start._

"Have you eaten? I'd be happy to go and get us something if you like, or we can both go out, maybe get to know each other?" Harry asks hopefully. He has to try  _something_ to break the tension.

Shouto stops unpacking again and turns to look him in the eye. "You seem like a nice person," he sighs "but I'm really not here to make friends. I'll be mindful, and I'll try to be as easy to live with as I can, but you don't need to try to get to know me."

Harry doesn't know whether to be offended, annoyed or relieved. On the one hand, Shouto says he's got no interest in being friends, which seems kind of insulting. On the other hand, he's not going to treat Harry like something he stepped in, and in the end, that's all he was really worried about. The biggest problem is that the room will probably be filled with a lot of awkward silences, but in reality Harry's there so little that it's unlikely to be that big of a problem.

"Well that's… candid," Harry says slowly, trying to find the right word. "But if that's the way you want it."

Shouto goes back to his unpacking.

 

* * *

 

Harry's up early the next morning. He might have been living at UA for two weeks already, but it finally feels like he's about to have his first day. He's got no more costumes to design, no more work meant for other people, and finally he can dedicate all his time to his own designs, and his own future.

Shouto's still asleep in the bed across from him. The night before hadn't really been all that awkward after all. It was mostly silent, sure, but Harry had simply put his earphones in and continued programming Omni, who talked back to him through the earphones. True to his word, Shouto had been cordial enough, offering Harry a drink if he got up to get one for himself and otherwise being pleasant enough to be around, without the other boy actually wanting to have any conversation.

Harry quietly slides out of bed, careful not to make too much noise and accidentally wake his new roommate. Even as Harry gets changed, Shouto doesn't stir in the slightest, still facing the opposite wall as his blanket softly rises and falls with his steady breath.

He creeps out the door to their room and shuts it softly behind him. Most of the lights in the dormitories are left off at night, but every third light in the hall is left on in case students are up in the middle of the night. It's not very cold in the early hours of the morning at UA, but the sun hasn't yet risen, so it is still dark. It's peaceful though, and despite the rest of the dorm students having arrived the day before, there's not another soul to be seen.

Harry makes his way towards the main building. He's glad there's no one around. If he gets up this early every day, he might just be lucky enough to keep having the dojo to himself after all. That's if there's even a point any more.

 _No._  Harry chastises himself for thinking so negatively. _I_ _ **am**_ _going to get better, even if Eraserhead thinks it's impossible. He can't be the only good teacher out there for me, and I'm going to do it even if I have to do it on my own._ Harry's newfound tenacity has him walking faster towards the dojo. Eraserhead seemed to be trying to get Harry to quit, but all he's managed to do is make Harry want it even more.

At this time of the morning the school is still closed, and Harry has to use his student ID on the scanner to get inside. It's eerily quiet, but the ID that Harry used to get inside had the secondary effect of turning on some of the lights, so he can at least see. He makes his way upstairs to the dojo.

Just like every day for the past two weeks, it's empty, although there's something about the time of day that make it seem even more still and solitary. He doesn't want to use the training dummy's today. If Eraserhead is right about his lack of skill, then continuing the same methods might as well just be reinforcing bad behaviour.

Harry decides just to attack one of the punching bags. It's good exercise, and throwing a good punch is common across many different styles of martial arts, so it surely can't be too quick jab is all he gets. As soon as he's struck the bag, that deep, criticising voice comes from the doorway.

"You really are stubborn, aren't you?" Eraserhead's voice travels across the room. For the third time, Harry jumps in fright at the unexpected sound.

"You really need to stop scaring the crap out of me," Harry complains bitterly, turning to face the pro-hero and teacher.

Eraserhead shrugs. "Maybe you just need to be more aware of your surroundings."

Harry turns back to the punching bag with a roll of his eyes. He jabs out several times, light, quick punches, more practicing for boxing than martial arts. "What are you doing here so early?" Harry asks, his back to the hero course teacher.

Eraserhead scoffs behind him. "Shouldn't I be asking  _you_ that? I've been teaching here for years, but I don't think I've ever seen a student be out of bed so early without actually needing to. Pretty weird behaviour for a teenager."

"I guess so," Harry answers half-heartedly, still striking at the punching bag. In truth, Harry's always been an early riser. He doesn't go to bed early or anything, in fact some nights he's awake well past midnight, usually designing some tool or another - but no matter what, he always wakes before the sunrise. Add that to the fact that he hates being unproductive, and it's not surprising that he's in the dojo that early in the morning. The only reason he hasn't found himself there that early in the two weeks he's already been at UA is because he's had hero costumes to finish.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you're back here again," Eraserhead says. "Like I said before, you're very stubborn."

Harry strikes the bag again, still not facing the man. "Nor should I be surprised that  _you're_ here. Apparently, it doesn't matter what time I get here, you'll be here to criticise me regardless," he says jokingly. "Which would be fine of course, if you'd agreed to train me."

Harry hears Eraserhead click his tongue. "You didn't give me a good enough reason," he explains, not sounding the slightest bit repentant.

Harry stops punching and finally turns to face him. "Well maybe it isn't a good enough reason for  _you_ ," he says seriously. "I don't care. If you won't teach me, I'll find someone who will. No matter what you say, no matter how much you doubt my abilities, I  _will_ be a hero." Harry turns back to the punching bag and begins jabbing once again.

Eraserhead says nothing for several seconds. "If you had said it like that yesterday, maybe I wouldn't have had to get out of bed so early," he eventually mutters, loud enough for Harry to hear, but sounding more like he's talking to himself. Harry's face screws up in confusion.

"Alright then, I'll train you."

The words almost floor Harry.  _What the hell is with this guy?_

"You'll train me," Harry repeats slowly. "I thought aiming for the hero course wasn't a good enough reason for you?"

Eraserhead shakes his head once. "It has nothing to do with what you want to do with your future. Yesterday you said you  _want_  to be a hero. Today you said you'll be one."

Harry steps closer to him. "And?" he questions.

" _Resolve_ makes a hero, Harry. It's what separates the great heroes from the mediocre and the failures. In my classes, I expel any student who I don't think has the guts to really make it. You've just proved to me that  _you_  do," Eraserhead says, taking on a serious tone.

 _How does he know my name? I don't think I ever mentioned it._ "And you don't care that I'm quirkless?" Harry asks. He makes sure there is no question in his voice, no sense of shame in what he is. Even so, it would be a lie to say he wasn't worried about the answer.

Eraserhead looks away. "Quirks are just the tools that heroes use to do their jobs," he says. "I hear you're quite good at making your own  _tools._ "

Harry is a little taken aback.  _Who has he been talking to, to know so much about me?_ Before he can ask any more questions, the man is turning on his heel and walking back out of the room.

"This room rarely gets used outside of regular school hours. Be here at seven tomorrow morning," he says over his shoulder as he leaves.

One thing that's clear about the other man is that he  _really_ likes to get the last word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long it took to post this. I was on a roll, and was several chapters ahead so I could keep posting when my computer crapped out. I wasn’t worried about it, since I was supposed to have everything saved on OneDrive, but for some bizarre reason they just weren’t there. So I had to rewrite this chapter from scratch, and I really don’t think it’s as good as it was initially. Oh well. Should be back to a more frequent schedule from now!


	7. Friends

**Chapter 7 - Friends**

 

Harry's in a great mood when he starts heading back to his dorm. After two weeks at UA, he's finally made the first solid move towards getting into the hero course. He might have been wasting years of his time trying to learn a style of fighting not suited to him, but now, with Eraserhead, he can get back on track.

_And surely not all the things I learned with Remus will be useless._

Even knowing that he hadn't really done anything to get Eraserhead to agree to train him, at least not by way of any conscious decision making on his part, he can't help but feel accomplished. Eraserhead is one of the best martial artists around, and if Harry heeds his lessons, it will go a long way towards becoming a powerful hero. All he needs to do now is get down to designing new tools, and Omni. Today, the first real day of classes, is the perfect day to start.

He's still not used to having other people around campus, other than Tom of course, but it's getting nearer to the start of class, and students can be seen all over the grounds. Harry has to rush back to his room and get changed before he ends up late to class. Snape hasn't been as bad as Harry had thought he would be so far, but he's not about to test the man's already limited patience.

Like yesterday when he had returned to the dorm, the door is wide open, and two voices can be heard inside. One is most definitely Shouto, but surprisingly the other is- "Momo!" Harry exclaims happily as he enters the room. "What are you doing here?"

Momo looks up from her conversation with Shouto and smiles at Harry with a small wave. "Hey!" she says. "I wanted to check out your new room, since you've been here for two weeks already and  _haven't_ invited me," she jokes, though Harry can tell she's at least a little miffed.

Harry rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry. It's been a really hectic couple of weeks. I barely had a minute to myself."

Momo smiles. "Don't worry, I get it. Just messing with you," she laughs. She looks between Harry and Shouto, who has already turned away from the conversation and is packing books away in a small backpack. "I can't believe the two of you are roommates."

 _I don't think she means because he's a Todoroki._ "You know each other?" Harry asks, surprised.

Momo nods rapidly. "Of course! My family is one of the Endeavour Hero Agency's biggest contributors. We've known each other since we were children. Isn't that right, Shouto?"

Shouto slings his bag up onto his back and over one shoulder before he turns around to face them. "Yes" he answers simply. "I'll see you in class, Yaoyorozu." Before either of them can say anything else, he's stalking past them and out into the hallway. It's surprisingly comforting to see Shouto be so disinterested with someone else. At least that means that it's not Harry specifically that has him acting in that way. Momo waves goodbye, completely unsurprised at Shouto's abrupt farewell.

"Is he always like that?" Harry asks.

Momo nods once, a little sadly. "Has been for as long as I've known him."

Harry sighs. "He was quite clear when I met him yesterday that he  _doesn't_ want to be friends."

Momo raises an eyebrow, now seeming genuinely surprised. "Really? I've known him a long time, but I've never seen him be openly unkind before."

Harry shakes his head. "He wasn't, really. He was quite nice about it actually." He scowls. "Well, as nice as someone can be when they say they aren't interested in being friends" he adds.

"Weird," Momo says. "But give him a chance, Shouto isn't a bad person. His father is very strict with him."

 _Is that why he said it's complicated why he moved into the dorms?_ Harry brushes aside the nosy thoughts. He shrugs. "It doesn't really matter that much in the end anyway. I'm really only here to sleep most days. That'll be especially true now," he says, thinking of his training with Eraserhead.

Momo frowns. "Why are you so busy all the time? Surely you, of all people, can handle the work in support classes."

Harry shakes his head in disagreement. "It's not the work itself, just time constraints. And now I've got a new martial arts trainer as well."

At Momo's raised eyebrow, Harry begins to tell her of his encounters with Eraserhead. By the end, the girl is practically jumping up and down with excitement. Once again, he can't help but realise how lucky he is to have her as his friend. With most people, Momo is really quite reserved and formal, but she really lets her walls down with Harry, and lets him see the real and true version of herself.

"Your getting trained by Aizawa-sensei? Do you have any idea how  _lucky_ you are?" She cries.

Harry nods seriously. "It won't be long now, Momo. Once I've built some tools and Omni's had more programming, I'll join you in the hero course." He feels utterly sure that it's a true statement.

 

* * *

 

"I see. My altered code suggests you intend to install me into a more effective communication device than via the smart phone application you developed," Omni says through Harry's earphones.

Omni's not wrong. It's always been Harry's intention to transfer the artificial intelligence to a device more suitable for immediate communication. Since any design he will make for himself ultimately rests on the presence of Omni, being able to easily talk to it is absolutely essential. It's hardly practical to whip his phone out every time he needs to use one of his tools, or even to talk to the artificial intelligence.

" _That's right,"_ Harry types back. He doesn't want his classmates to think he's crazy and talking to himself, so he's forced to type his responses back to the program. It's true that he could simply explain that he's designing an artificial intelligence, and that's what he's talking to, but he wants to keep Omni as much of a secret as possible. His reasoning is about more than just the fact that many people doubt the wisdom in creating artificial intelligence. The fact is, if he wants to become an effective hero, he can't do it without Omni, and announcing that he's making one might just end up being something that a villain could one day use against him.

"Might I suggest some sort of helmet, or perhaps a larger visor?" Omni says. Harry smiles. Despite having been the one to code the intelligence, Omni still surprises him ridiculously often. He's been thinking the exact same thing that it's just suggested. A helmet or visor is the ideal solution. It could serve as adequate protection for his head, can be soundproofed so that nobody else can hear Omni's voice, and Harry would be free to install other devices inside it, such as the thermal detection device that had  _already_  assisted him invaluably in the fire.

" _I was thinking the same thing. I'll have to get started on some blueprints,"_ he types.

It's not the only blueprint he needs to get started on. There are countless ideas flying around his head, and before he even  _tries_ to get into the hero course, he wants to create them all. He's never going to get into the hero course if he's only just  _as good_ as the people already enrolled in it. He needs to be exceptional, and his tools need to allow him to adapt to almost any situation. If he's going to succeed, he needs to build everything, and have every possible advantage.

"What are you doing?" Snape's oily voice asks behind him. The black feathered man is standing behind the entrance to Harry's cubicle workstation, looking in with an irritated expression.

"I'm-" Harry hesitates, sensing from the man that he's done something wrong. "Well I'm doing some self design. You said that's what we were doing now that we've finished the academic classes today, right?" Harry asks, wondering what he could have done wrong.

"It doesn't  _look_  like you're designing," Snape accuses, eyeing Harry's computer screen warily.

Harry sighs. He probably should have expected something like this. Looking at it now, it seems strange that Snape would make such a big deal out about Omni in the interview, and then suddenly be fine with Harry working on it in class. He should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "I am, though," Harry argues. I'm working on… my project," he emphasises the word so that Snape will know what he's talking about.

Snape clicks his tongue. "I know exactly what you're working on, and what I  _meant_ by self design was actually designing tools, not… other projects."

 _Well you really should have been clearer about that._ Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. After the way Snape had carried on about Omni in the interview, it's pretty clear why he actually wants Harry to focus on something else.

_Like hell I'm going to stop working on Omni just because_ _**you** _ _want me to._

"This is meant  _for_  a tool," Harry argues.

Snape shakes his head, muttering crossly. "But it's not one itself, now is it?" he asks rhetorically. "Find something to  _build."_ Snape walks away with heavy footsteps, muttering all the while about "Stupid, reckless Potters."

_Potters? Has he had to deal with Nick already? No… it's only been a few hours into Nick's first day. Perhaps he knows Mum or Dad?"_

A chime sounds through Harry's earphones, letting him know that he's received a private message through the school's communication system between students.

It's from Tom.  _"That wouldn't happen if you'd just agree to collaborate on a project with me,"_ it reads.

Harry  _does_  roll his eyes at that message. He's yet to give Tom a straight answer on his proposition. It's not that he disagrees with the other boy; in fact he rather agrees that they would be able to build some extraordinary things together. Harry's just not sure whether Tom wants Harry to work with him for the reasons he'd laid out or not. Whatever else he might be otherwise, Harry is absolutely certain that Tom is  _very_ driven, and would step right over Harry for the top spot if the opportunity was given to him.

" _I already told you, I'll think about it,"_  Harry types back. If Harry were sure he could trust him, he wouldn't actually mind working with him; but with Harry trying to get into the hero course, he's really got enough on his plate already. And now Snape won't even let him design the one thing he really _needs_  to get into the hero course.

The chime sounds again.  _"Don't think for too long, or I'll build all the good stuff without you,"_ his next message reads.

Harry smirks. As always Tom is absolutely brimming with bravado, though Harry knows he can probably back up those words. The smirk fades, and Harry begins to scowl. Tom isn't the immediate problem. The real problem is his teacher. He  _could_ go to Professor Dumbledore, who seems to fully support Harry's creation of Omni, but that should really be a last resort, considering how hard Snape could make his life in the Support course if he were given legitimate reason. No, he needs to know more about Snape, perhaps give him a reason to let him continue on programming Omni.

_Perhaps it's time to visit Mum and Dad…_

 

* * *

 

The school's cafeteria is absolutely packed with students come lunchtime. The room is located in the very centre of the school, nestled comfortably between, and connected to, all the four different schools. It's the one area of the school where students from all four courses congregate daily.

Harry scans the room for familiar faces. He sees his brother on the opposite side, sitting with the same small circle of friends he'd had in middle school, the same group of friends that had done everything they could to make Harry's life as difficult as possible. He hasn't spoken to his brother since moving into the dorms, and he knows Nick is likely still angry that he had moved out at all, but Harry's got no intention of approaching him whilever his 'friends' are around.

He keeps looking across the room until his eyes land on Momo, who's already seen him and is waving him over emphatically. "Hey!" she says happily when he makes his way over. She's sitting at a long table with a group of people Harry assumes to be her new classmates.

"Guys, I want to introduce you to someone," she says to them.

One of the group, a boy with spiky red hair, gives her a strange look. "Uhm, we already know Nick, Yaoyorozu," he points out. "He's in our class."

Harry smiles, but doesn't answer, instead pointing over to where Nick sits at the other side of the cafeteria. The entire group all turn to look where he's pointing.

"Oh cool," the red haired boy turns back to him. "You're a twin!"

Harry nods, a little amused. Despite the fact that he and Nick aren't actually  _identical_ twins, people nevertheless still manage to confuse them occasionally. Objectively speaking, they do look remarkably alike, but anyone who knows them personally would be able to tell them apart easily.

"Yes, he is," Momo tells him with a slight scowl and an annoyed tone. "This is  _Harry,_ not Nick."

"Oh, right," the boy says, utterly nonplussed by Momo's irritated reaction to his mistake. "I'm Kirishima, nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Harry says, sitting down at the table.

"And this is Tsuyu Asui," Momo introduces a frog looking girl sitting opposite her. She looks so frog-like that Harry assumes it's something to do with her quirk.

"Call me Tsu," the girl says simply.  _She kind of sounds like a frog, too._

Over the next few minutes, Harry is introduced to the entire group sitting at the table. First is Kyoka Jirou, a dark haired girl with short dark hair, and skin coloured Audio cables hanging from her earlobes. It takes Harry a moment to realise they actually  _are_ her earlobes.

Next is Ojiro Mashirao, a fairly large boy with short blonde hair. He has the end of a large and muscular looking tail hanging over his shoulder.

Then there's Mina Ashido, a girl with bright pink skin and yellow eyes. The sclera in her eyes are black, rather than white, making her yellow irises show all the more prominently. There are short yellow antenna protruding out the top of of her unruly pink hair.

Harry feels like he already knows the last one to be introduced. "You're Denki Kaminari?" Harry asks after Momo says his name. He's been eager to meet one of the people who he'd put in so much effort for, though in truth Katsuki's had required much more time and thought than Kaminari's.

"Uhm, yes?" He answers, clearly confused as to how Harry knows him.

"I designed your costume!" Harry tells him happily. "I really hope you like it. It took quite some time."

Kaminari's face lights up with excitement. "Oh really? None of us have seen our costumes yet. Is it cool? Will it work? Every time I try to use my quirk in normal clothes I end up burning them off," he admits with a slight grin.

Harry nods enthusiastically. "Oh it'll work. I threw some serious voltage at it… didn't leave a scratch," he says, feeling just a little smug.

"Yes! You're awesome!" Kaminari yells, standing up from his seat and throwing a fist into the air.

Harry's not sure whether he should tell Kaminari what he wants to tell him. The instructions they had been given in creating the costumes had been quite clear. They were only to construct them by following the specific instructions given by the hero students. Kaminari had only asked for a costume that could withstand his high voltage, but Harry knows he could have created a costume with far more potential. He even has general designs planning for such, though in the end he wasn't allowed to include them in the final product.

_I might not have been allowed to include it, but nobody said anything about telling him about it._

"But," Harry adds uncertainly, causing the cheering boy to stop and look down at him worriedly. "Don't you want more combat capability?" The boy turns his head slightly sideways and sits back down.

"I wanted to include a few…  _extras_  to your costume, but I wasn't really allowed to make big decisions like that without you specifically asking for them. My idea was to generally give you more ranged potential towards specific targets. You would even be able to control the voltage," Harry explains.

Kaminari's eyes widen. "You could  _do_ that?" He asks.

Harry nods once. "Sure! Tell you what, give us both a couple of weeks to settle in, and then put in another application. I'll get you sorted out," Harry promises.

"That would be  _awesome_!" Kaminari cries happily.

Harry shrugs. "It's no problem."

 _No problem at all for a future classmate of mine,_  Harry promises himself. There's no guarantee that he will end up in Class 1A, assuming he can get into the hero course at all, but he hopes he does. Years of middle school and the only friend he has to show for it is Momo. One official day after the first two support weeks and he's  _already_  found people he'd like to be friends with.

"You must be pretty smart to be able to do all that, especially just being a first year support student," Tsu comments after a moment. Harry's about to answer, but Momo beats him to it.

"Harry's a genius," she says simply, as if it's the easiest title to quantify in the world. Harry feels the blood rush to his face, and he raises his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed. He doesn't dispute her.

"But I thought you'd be in the hero course, like in class 1B maybe," Kirishima says. "You and your brother's quirk's is pretty amazing." It's a natural assumption. Most twins do end up with the same quirks, after all.

_And now comes the moment to decide whether they're worth being friends with._

"Actually, I'm quirkless," Harry says. As always when he announces his status to someone, he says it without any hint of shame, just daring people to say something negative about it.

To Harry's surprise, Kirishima laughs, though he doesn't seem to be laughing  _at_ Harry. "Well it's a good thing you're so smart then!" he says.

Momo shakes her head and rolls her eyes. Harry lets out a small laugh. "I guess it is."

 _Well that's better than him suddenly thinking I'm pathetic. At least he didn't say I don't belong at UA._ Harry remembers the exact reaction that Seamus and Dudley had when they found out about Harry's scholarship.

Actually, Harry had had a careful eye on the entire group as he'd told them, and he didn't detect even a single expression of disgust, or god forbid, pity. They'd reacted to the news as if he'd instead said that he's a Leo star sign. It's just a simple fact about him, nothing more, nothing less, and he's glad that that's the exact thought they seem to have about it, too.

He's not all that surprised when the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch and the beginning of next class. He'd stayed in the workshop for the majority of time allocated for lunch. He hadn't intended to, but once he'd stopped programming Omni per Snape's order and begun designing his newest tool, time simply slipped away from him.

"Well, it was cool meeting you guys," Harry says as they all get up from their table.

"Yeah! Thanks again for creating my costume. I can't wait to see it," Kaminari says, not reigning in his excitement even a little.

"Simmer down, idiot," Kyoka chastises, flicking his forehead.

"Is it okay if I come to visit later?" Momo asks Harry, ignoring the now bickering pair.

Harry shakes his head. "If you're free, come tomorrow instead. I'm going home to visit after school today," Harry says.

Momo looks up quickly in surprise. Harry can't really blame her for the reaction. Whenever Harry has an issue with his family, Momo's always the one he tells about it, so she knows his complicated feelings about them better than pretty much anyone. "Really?" She asks.

Before Harry can answer, there's a voice speaking from behind him. "Really?" Harry knows it's Nick before he even turns around.

"Hey Nick," Harry says happily. It is genuinely good to see his brother. It hasn't struck him until now, but the past two weeks is the longest time he's ever had apart from his twin. Thankfully, he's not with his so called friends. Momo briefly touches Harry on the shoulder in farewell and begins to head back to class. Most of the cafeteria is empty by now.

"Are you really coming home later?" Nick asks. Harry can't mistake the hopeful look in his eyes.

_I should have called him. All he wants is the chance to reconnect._

"Sure am, but just for a  _visit,_ " Harry clarifies, not wanting to give his brother the wrong idea. Now especially, with Eraserhead having agreed to train him, Harry can't afford to move out of the dorms.

"Good. I thought you might've forgotten about us," Nick answers, giving Harry a slightly hurt look.

Harry feels a pang of guilt in his stomach.  _I deserved that._ "Sorry, I've been really busy. Today's the first day since I got here that I've even had the chance," Harry says. It's not a lie, but Harry knows he should have spared a moment or two to visit his family, at the very least to call them.

Nick shakes his head. "Don't be. Just promise you'll come home today," he says.

Harry nods seriously. "I promise." There's a smile on Nick's face as he walks away, heading to his last classes of the day.

Harry stalks off in the opposite direction, back towards the support building. As soon as he's out of the cafeteria and into the empty hallway beyond, he gets pushed from behind, hard. Harry staggers forward, but manages to remain on his feet. He turns around, dropping instantly into a fighting stance.

As soon as he sees who the culprits are, he drops the stance with a dreary sigh. "What the hell do you two want?" he asks in a resigned voice. Seamus and Dudley leer back at him.

"Your brother was upset when he saw you in the cafeteria without even saying hello to him. I don't know why he worries about someone _like you,_ but we're his friends, and we should teach you a lesson about being a better brother," Seamus says.

Harry almost wants to laugh at the reason they've given for being there. "Like you've  _ever_  needed a reason to give me shit. Don't pretend to care about Nick. If you did you'd probably be a little nicer to  _me."_

"Nicer to a quirkless little freak like you? I don't think so. They shouldn't even let  _your kind_ through the front gate of this school," Dudley says.

Harry smiles at him, though its all mocking. "Quirkless freak like me? That's not very nice. Isn't your mum quirkless? How is dear old Aunt Petunia?" He asks, trying to sound genuinely interested. Dudley goes white as a sheet of paper. He's always hated any reminder that he's related to not just one, but  _two_  quirkless people.

"Dudley's mum isn't pretending to be something she's not. You're still trying to be important by coming to UA, but you'll never amount to anything" Seamus argues.

Harry shrugs. "Maybe you're right and they shouldn't let people like me into UA, but they definitely shouldn't let people like you in."

Dudley laughs. "This school is filled with people with quirks. There'd be nobody left."

 _Dudley never has been overly bright. It's a miracle he passed the written exam to get into UA._ "No no no," Harry says casually, shaking his head. "I don't mean people with quirks. I mean they shouldn't let people who are massive  _assholes_ into the school."

The shocked look on both of their faces is priceless. Not once in all the years that they've been tormenting Harry has he ever lashed back at them quite like this. The odd quip here and there, sure, but never anything more than that. It feels  _fantastic._ Seamus' hand begins to glow, and Dudley begins to back up slowly, ready to run at Harry and activate his charge quirk.

 _So be it._ Harry's not going to back down from them. Not here, not at UA. He got into this school too, just like them, regardless of what course they're in. They're not better than him.  _They_ _ **not**_ _better than me._ He repeats the words in his head like a mantra as he drops again into a fighting stance.

Everything stops when Dudley topples forward and lands directly on his face.

"Whoops, you seem to have fallen over," says an amused looking Tom, having snuck up behind without any of them even knowing. He's standing exactly where Dudley had been before falling, and it's very clear that he's the one that pushed him. "Interesting quirk," Tom says, now addressing Seamus. "But if the teachers catch you using your quirk like that, you'll probably get expelled." It's a clear threat, but Tom says it casually, like it's a fun fact.

Seamus' hand slowly stops glowing and he helps Dudley back to his feet. "This isn't over," he says to Harry over his shoulder as they walk back towards the hero building.

Tom walks up to the very bewildered Harry. "Back to class, then?" He says, still sounding casual, as if nothing had just happened. Harry just looks back at the dark haired boy, trying to figure him out. He nods dumbly, and they begin to walk back into the support building.

They walk in silence for several seconds before Harry speaks up. "Not to sound ungrateful, but you didn't have to do that."

Tom shrugs. "No, probably not, but at least two on two would have been a fair fight."

 _He would have fought with me?_ What Tom just did is the exact sort of thing that Momo would do for him. The exact thing that one friend would do for another.  _Are we friends?_ No matter how he looks at it, Harry thinks that somehow, that's what they've become.

"Tom," Harry says.

"Hm?"

"Are you still interested in collaborating?"

The smile on Tom's face as he looks back at him is blinding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to post fortnightly, instead of weekly, to give me a chance to work on my other fics as well. From this point on, I'll be posting chapters for this fic every fortnight.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	8. Ghosts

**Chapter 8 - Ghosts**

 

"So what do you think we should work on?" Tom asks excitedly as they leave class for the day. "Should we start small? Or maybe we should go big from the start!"

_Wow._

This is definitely a different Tom than the one he'd met so many weeks ago. It's a different Tom even from the one he's spent most of the last two weeks with. That Tom had been quiet and competitive. This Tom is so far in the other direction that its almost alarming.

"I don't know," Harry admits. "I can't say I've thought that much about it."

_Because I only just agreed to actually collaborate._

"Well I have, and I've got  _so many_ ideas."

It's hard to believe that there was a time that Harry would doubt Tom even legitimately wanted to collaborate, that he thought it might be just a ruse to get the top spot for himself. He's too sincere about the possibility of them working together for that to even seem realistic, now.

"Like, don't you think guns are outdated and old guard? We could make something entirely new and revolutionary! Based on energy rather than brute force. Something more elegant and refined" Tom says, his tone more and more excitable.

 _He wants to make something revolutionary?_ Harry's not really against the idea, though he'd prefer it not be a weapon. But it still seems rather soon to be trying to create something together that could completely change the world. After all, they don't know each other all that well, and they've yet to make  _anything_ together, yet. That's imagining that they even  _could._

"No?" Tom asks, reading Harry's expression and sounding disappointed. Not to give up though, he begins spouting other ideas. "What about… something more biological? Probably more my specialty than yours, but I'm sure you can keep up. I'm thinking like some sort of drug or stimulant that enhances abilities?"

_He's certainly not thinking small…_

Again, Harry's face gives Tom answer enough. But the other boy isn't about to be deterred so easily.

"Plasma shields? What about miniature drones? Quantum Camouflage?"

_He has_ _**definitely** _ _thought about it._

Harry shrugs. Generally speaking, they're all fantastic ideas, and some of them are even quite possible, his mind already ticking over with possibilities and theories on how they might work. But they would likely all take an infinitely long time, and Harry's not sure he wants to put in that much work to something he's not fully invested in.

"What about something different? Most of those you just mentioned have one thing in common," Harry suggests. "They would all require  _a lot_ of power."

Tom raises an eyebrow. "You want to start  _that_ big? Solve the world's energy crisis?"

It's quite apparent that thinking big is just the way that Tom does things. Not a single one of his suggestions has been anything less than completely ground-breaking and unique. That's not to even mention that he seems to fully believe himself capable of doing everything he says. Harry's never thought of confidence as a bad thing, but he's perhaps a little more of a realist than Tom seems to be. That's not to say that such designs are impossible, just a whole lot more difficult than Tom makes it sound.

"Actually, I was thinking a little smaller. Like a battery maybe?"

In truth, Harry had been thinking about it in his own designs anyway. Everything he's thought of needs a little power, so having  _all_ of his ideas implemented means that he needs to find a way of having enough energy to run them all together. If Tom can help with that, while still building something for himself as well, it's a win win. It's fleeting, but a look of disappointment flashes across Tom's face.

"A battery?" He asks, not even attempting to hide his dissatisfaction. "Don't you think we can do better than that?"

Harry shrugs. "It's not like it's going to be  _easy_. I'm not talking about custom building some boring lithium-ion battery. I want something more powerful. Something that will last longer, charge faster and can be adapted to fit a range of different designs."

Tom considers it for a moment. Harry's not lying. What he's talking about is a decade or more from being commercially produced, and there are so many hurdles that stand in the way of such a battery being viable. But as much as Tom dreams bigger than he does, Harry is still a dreamer, too, and he's not one to settle for a design that is even a little less than what he wants.

Tom eventually nods. "Not a reactor of some kind?" Tom suggests an alternative, looking at Harry hopefully. "No? Well I suppose a battery is a good enough place to start. We might need it for any bigger designs we come up with anyway, I guess."

That's true, too. Having a battery that's potentially more powerful than any on the market will make any design that comes after that much better. "Excellent" Harry says. "Then we can start planning from tomorrow."

Tom frowns. "Tomorrow? What's wrong with starting now?"

Harry shakes his head. "I'm going home to see my family." They walk around the corner, out towards the front of the school now. Nick is by the front gates waiting for him. He looks up and waves happily when he sees Harry coming.

"Can't it wait? This is important," Tom stresses.

Harry rolls his eyes. "So is this."

Nick's within earshot now. "But you can visit your family anytime!" Tom says. Harry sees the scowl form on Nick's face in front of him. No doubt he thinks Harry's about to break his promise. Instead, Harry turns to Tom. He affixes him with a firm look.

"Okay, ground rules. I've agreed to collaborate with you, but I still need my own time. We still have our own projects to do and I still want time to work on those as well."

Tom holds his hands up in innocence. "Alright alright," he says with a forced smile. "Tomorrow then?"

Harry sighs, but nods. "Tomorrow," he agrees.

 

* * *

 

Harry stands in front of the small skyscraper that serves as both the Potter hero agency and the home for all those employed there. Even after two weeks, it's still strange to think that he doesn't actually live there anymore.

"Well, are you just going to stand there?" Nick asks next to him, eyebrow raised in an arc. Harry smiles and shakes his head, stepping towards the entrance after his brother.

Nick is practically bouncing on his heels as he steps into the elevator next to Harry, humming a familiar tune. Harry simply stares at him, wondering what could possibly have happened to have him in such a good mood. Not that he's complaining of course, but he's still not used to present day Nick, a far cry from the sullen teenager who'd constantly nag him about offending his friends back in middle school. This Nick definitely wants to be his brother, and his friend.

 _Is he this happy just because I've come home?_ Another pang of guilt. Busy or not, Harry definitely should have found the time to visit. Especially after Nick had put up such a fight against him moving out in the first place.

"So how's the support course going?" Nick asks. "You said you were busy?"

Harry's brows furrow. Nick's not usually one for small talk. He's more jokes and laughs than talkative.  _He's nervous._ It's strange to think that Nick is  _this_ excited about Harry coming home.

"Very," Harry admits. "Do you know a guy named Bakugou?"

Nick cringes. "Oh yeah. Guy's way psycho. Explosive temper to match an explosion quirk. He's in my class."

That figures. While they'd been easy to follow, Bakugou's instructions had held several comments about needing it to be perfect, and they hadn't been especially nice about it. In one section of the application, he'd even referred to whoever was responsible for the design a 'nerd.' All in all, it hadn't painted a picture of someone who's particularly mentally stable.

"I had to design his costume. Wasn't too hard to figure out a way to give him extra control over his explosions, but it was definitely time consuming," Harry explains.

Nick looks genuinely impressed. "You figured out a way to control his explosions? I saw some of the smaller ones in action today. Pretty wild. You sure his costume will actually  _work_?"

Harry nods firmly. "I tested them pretty thoroughly. Did you know that UA will even let us have access to dynamite if you give them a good enough reason?"

Everyone knows that UA is the best school, but Harry was still surprised to learn of the true extent of it's resources, and the level of access that the school would allow them to have. He's still balking at the fact that they'd actually allowed him to test Bakugou's gauntlets using dynamite. It was under a strictly controlled environment of course, and Harry was in no danger, but it's still rather incredible.

"Seriously? You got to use dynamite?" Nick asks excitedly. "Support course must be more fun than I thought."

Harry can't help but feel a little offended, though he knows logically that Nick didn't mean anything by it. His brother is  _trying_ , and that's what really counts, but it still stings that nobody in his family seems to take what he does seriously, and that they seem to think it's boring. It still feels like heroes come first, and everything else in second, and that includes what he does.

The elevator doors open before either can say anything more. Nick steps out into the Potter home, the penthouse of the building. Despite their wealth, the house isn't overly extravagant or fancy, not like the Yaoyorozu mansion, and it's just appears a house like any other, inside. The elevators open directly into a spacious living area, which is comfortable, rather than ritzy. James and Lily, surprisingly, are waiting just inside. Harry had been sure he would've had to wait for them. At this time of day, they're usually on patrols or responding to an emergency call.

"Nick!" Lily says ecstatically. "Welcome home! How was your first day?"

_Of course, that's why they're home._

There's another pang of jealousy, but Harry brushes it aside as he steps out of the elevator. It's harder to do after two weeks away from it all.

"Oh, Harry!" Lily says happily. "We weren't expecting you, but I'm so happy to see you!"

Harry immediately smells freshly baked pastries. It's been years since he's seen her do any cooking, but in the past Lily often baked for them. It's clearly meant as a celebration of Nick's first day. Lily runs over and envelops them both together in a hug. It's something else that she used to do alot, hugging them so tightly that all three of them are pressed together like a can of sardines. It's surprisingly comforting.

"Mum, geroff!" Nick moans, though Harry knows that he secretly enjoys it as much as he himself does.

Lily does stop hugging them, though she leaves a hand on each of their shoulders. "You think just because you're in high school now that you're too old for a hug from your mother?" she asks good naturedly.

James steps over as well, giving Harry a quick slap on the back. "Good to see you," he says.

 _I definitely should have visited._ The thought strikes him again.

James' eyes light up as he looks to Nick. "How was your first day in the hero course?"

_Don't be jealous, don't be jealous, don't be jealous._

But he can't help it. James had been perfectly sincere when he told him it was good to see him, but it's hard not to be hurt by the sheer look of excitement on his father's face when he's asking about the hero course. Lily and James are just so  _proud_ of Nick, and Harry wants a piece of that, just once in his life. He doesn't really listen to Nick's answer, instead turning to his mother.

"Wow mum, you've gone all out," Harry comments, nodding towards the kitchen and changing the subject away so he doesn't have to think about it. It's a reflex, really, and one he has been doing for years. Any time he feels overlooked, he just buries his feelings and distracts himself.

"Lil's been cooking all afternoon," James comments, cutting off his conversation with Nick.

"Well today is a day worth celebrating," Lily says, her tone slightly defensive. "Nick has just finished his first day of hero course, and now Harry is here!"

Nick claps Harry on the shoulder, giving him a look of 'you see what you're missing?' He's smiling widely, an expression that Harry's still not quite used to seeing on his face. He begins dragging him over towards the kitchen. "It's been  _forever_ since I had one of mum's muffins," he says longingly. He lets go of Harry and reaches out for one of the nearest plates.

"I bet Aizawa put you through your paces," James comments, walking over and joining them in the kitchen.

Harry tenses up immediately.  _How do they know that he's sparred with me? Do they know he's agreed to train me?_  Surely the answer must be no. He knows they would never approve. It's not the learning to defend himself that they would have a problem with, it's just his reasons why.

"Mmhmm," Nick mumbles, chewing his muffin furiously so he can answer the question. Harry breathes a sigh of relief. Of course they're talking about Nick, since Aizawa is his new teacher. If they'd been talking to Harry, their reaction wouldn't be nearly as calm.

"We had to use our quirks in a bunch of different ways. He said whoever came in last would be expelled to make our class an even twenty, but it ended up being a bluff."

That certainly sounds like the Eraserhead he had met, though Harry doubts that such a bluff would have worked on him. Why would UA accept twenty one students if they just had to expel one on the first day?

"Where did you place?" James asks curiously.

Nick looks up and smirks, almost arrogantly. "I came in fifth," he says. "I might've scored higher, but some of the tests favored some quirks over others."

Harry almost rolls his eyes. There's nothing wrong with aiming for the top, especially since Harry has been fighting so hard to keep it in support, but coming up with excuses why he didn't score higher in an entrance test? To him, it comes off as arrogance. In any case, fifth out of twenty-one of arguably the best hero candidates in the country is quite an accomplishment anyway.

"That's my boy!" James exclaims, giving his youngest son a heartfelt thumbs up. Lily looks just as proud.

Again, Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He himself gets accepted into UA on scholarship and keeps the top position for the entire time he's there, but its always Nick and his accomplishments that they want to celebrate. Not for the first time, Harry wonders if they think that being in Support course is easy, and that if they weren't heroes, they could easily do that, too.

"What about you Harry, how is everything in support?" Lily asks.

_Don't pretend._

Harry shrugs. "Things are going fine. I've been busy though."

Over the years Harry has become the master of giving his parents just enough of an answer to satisfy their curiosity, and in a tone that's not cold, but doesn't invite alot of questions either.

"Harry actually designed the costume of a guy in my class with an explosion quirk. It's pretty impressive, don't you think?" Nick says. Harry's eyes widen as he looks at his brother. Not once in his whole life has Nick ever praised Harry's accomplishments to his parents. Not to mention that it proves that at least one member of Harry's family is actually  _listening_ to him.

"Really? That's great dear," Lily says, though there's no real excitement in it.

Even Nick looks disappointed in her reaction.  _He might start to understand why I left, now._

"So what brings you back, Harry?" James asks. "Just here for a visit?"

Harry nods. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about a teacher of mine I'm having a little trouble with." His parents both look up at him with a slight look of worry on their face. He waves a hand as if brushing their anxiety aside. "It's nothing major, we're just having a bit of a disagreement over one of my designs."

Lily's face relaxes a little. "Oh, I see. It's someone we know?"

Harry shrugs again. "I'm not actually sure. I heard him today say something about 'reckless Potters,' so it had me wondering…"

"Strange, but it might just be someone who knows us as pro-heroes. Who is it?" James asks.

"Severus Snape."

His father's face morphs into a sneer at the mere mention of the name. "Snivellus?"

Lily slaps him lightly on the arm. "Don't call him that."

_Well, they definitely know him._

"So that oily git is giving you trouble? Maybe I should head over to UA and give him some trouble of my own!" James says, anger clearly rising.

As nice as it is that James would want to go down to the school to defend him like that, it's the very last thing that would help. Luckily, Lily quashes the idea before Harry himself has to.

"You'll do no such thing," Lily says firmly, forcing her husband back into his seat with a glare. She turns to Harry, entirely more composed and calm. "You're having a problem with Severus?"

Harry looks curiously between his mother and father's faces. Clearly, James isn't a fan of Snape, but Lily's face doesn't give away much at all. "A little. There's a project of mine, the same one that actually got me the scholarship, that he doesn't want me working on. If it were any other project, I could adapt, but this one is… unique. He was opposed to it in the interview to UA as well, but I never thought that he would actually stop me from working on it" Harry explains. "Is there any chance that it's a personal grudge against one of you?"

"Yes," James says simply.

" _No,"_ Lily says, more firm an answer than her husband had given. She glares at James a second time. "Severus is firm, but fair. I'm not saying he's right, but if he's stopping you, he must have his reasons."

"What makes you so sure?" Harry has to ask. It's a little jarring to see his parents disagree about someone so assuredly. James must have  _some_ reason to think that it's a personal grudge.

"Severus and I were very close friends once, not unlike you and Momo. I'd like to think that despite the time that's passed, I still know him."

Like him and Momo? It's hard to imagine that there's  _anything_ that could have him spending so much time away from his friend that he wouldn't know what's going on in her life anymore.

"What happened?"

It's James that answers. "He loved your mother in a different way than she loved him."

It's enough to paint a picture of what happened. Severus confessed his feelings, and his mother didn't reciprocate. It probably also explains a little of why James doesn't like him much.

"So what do you think I should do, Mum?"

"Like I said, he has his reasons for stopping you. But Severus is logical above all else. If you give him a good reason why he should  _let_ you continue your project, he will."

Before Harry can even answer her, Nick is slamming his hand down on the table. "Is this the only reason you decided to come home?" he practically spits. Harry had been too busy talking to his parents to see how angry Nick was becoming.

 _What?_ It seems to have come out of nowhere.

"Would you have even thought about coming home today if your teacher didn't say something?"

Suddenly the reason for his anger is abundantly clear, and Harry can't say that he blames him. If he's honest, the answer is a definite no. He's barely thought of his family in two weeks, and today would have been no different. Harry's hesitation is answer enough for Nick.

"I can't believe I was so excited for you to come home," Nick says, and his miserable tone makes Harry feel utterly wretched. "Do you even care about us?"

"Of course I do!" Harry claims. "I'm sorry-"

"Forget about it. I'll see you at school," his brother says coldly, walking off in the direction of his bedroom. Harry sighs inwardly.

Lily puts a comforting hand on his arm. "Your leaving hit Nick hard. Give him time to adjust," his mother advises.

 _It's more than that._ Harry and Nick have been on different paths for a lot longer than before Harry left. Harry looks out the glass doors to the terrace beyond. It's an enclosed space, filled with sand pits and jungle gyms where they used to spend all their time together.

For a brief second, Harry can almost see and hear the two of them, knee high and laughing and running around, as close as two brothers can possibly be. But those days are gone, and those versions of them are gone, too. Now, they're no more than the ghosts of Harry's memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes  
> Really sorry this took so long. I’d initially promised to post every Tuesday, so I’m sorry I couldn’t stick to that. Christmas was hectic, and January even more so. Basically my whole department at work went on holidays bar me, so I had alot on my plate.  
> I’m not going to promise to post weekly like before, but I do promise to try to post more regularly.  
> On the chapter itself, I’m a little worried about how I’ve written the Potter family all together, that they all seem crazy. I’m aiming more for the tumultuous family vibe, but I’m not sure I got it right. Either way, I hope you enjoyed.


	9. Endeavor

**Chapter 9 - Endeavor**

 

"I'm still not getting why this helps," Harry complains. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and along the bridge of his nose. It tickles, but he knows he can only lift his hand to scratch at the itch at the risk of falling. He's in the dojo of UA, balancing on one leg on a tightrope held aloft about a metre off the ground.

"I told you when we started a week ago," Aizawa yawns. "Your balance is not at an acceptable level, yet."

Logically, Harry knows that's true. When they'd sparred, Eraserhead had been able to repeatedly knock him to the ground with barely any effort at all. There's no doubt that he needs to improve, but that doesn't change the fact that Aizawa's methods of helping him to do so are… frustrating, to say the least. When Aizawa had agreed to train him, he'd expected drills on technique and practice via sparring, but instead his Sensei has had him doing exercises to increase his balance and grant him surer movement.

Yet these exercises are more taxing than  _anything_ that Remus has ever had him doing. Aizawa isn't starting him on beginner exercises. He's thrown him straight into the deep end, giving him advanced exercises meant for those who have been training in such a way for years. It's not that the exercises are particularly complicated, just that they use muscle groups that Harry's not really used to using. All it means is that Harry is sore…  _all_ the time.

It's been bad enough that other people are beginning to notice. He's been asked about it by Tom on several occasions, as well as Momo, and even Shouto, the boy who had openly told him that he's got no real interest in talking to him. For even him to say something, the effect that Aizawa's training is having on him must be pretty obvious.

But Harry trusts his new Sensei. Aizawa had told him that he would work him hard, probably harder than anyone he's ever trained. But it's not for no reason. Aizawa knows that Harry is aiming for the hero course, and he also knows that within a few months time, he's going to have a good opportunity to actually get into it. According to him, if Harry can perform well enough in UA's sports festival, the school might just see it necessary to transfer him.

And so he has him doing the advanced exercises, all so Harry's body will be ready for what Aizawa has to teach him. He'd told Harry in their first session a week ago that his own style is far more acrobatic than Harry is used to. It's more focused on a high level of movement than the style Remus taught him, but as yet, his body isn't strong enough to properly manage it.

Harry steps forward slowly onto his other leg on the tightrope, lifting the leg he was leaning on upwards so that it's close to his chest. He sways slightly, using his arms to help balance himself. If it was this time a week ago, Harry would have fallen flat on his face, but it's amazing how far he's come in just that short amount of time.

"A little sloppy," Aizawa says. "But still much improved. You do seem to be struggling less with holding the position."

"Easy for you to say," Harry says, intending for it to be a joke. Instead, it comes out sounding tight and humorless from the strain of trying to keep stable on the thin stretch of wire. "I feel like I'm on fire."

Aizawa shrugs. "I did warn you that this wouldn't be easy."

_Nothing worth having ever is._

It's hard to keep thinking positively in the middle of his struggle, but he knows this training will be worth it in the end. By Aizawa's own admission, it's the training that got he himself to the level he's at, the same level that allows him to fight on an even level with powerful villains, sometimes even without the use of his quirk erasing power. Not to mention that even without his martial arts skills, Aizawa's centre of gravity and balance are  _off the charts._ Just a few days prior Harry had watched the man run along the tightrope as easily as he would run on flat ground.

"Anyway, I think that's enough for today. Class starts in an hour," Aizawa finally says.

 _An hour?_ They usually work a little closer to class time than this. A couple of times through the week Harry has practically had to run just to make it on time. For any other teacher he wouldn't stress too much, but for Snape? It's not worth trying to push his buttons.

"Why so early?" Harry asks, still balancing on the rope.

"Because, despite the fact that you're doing well, if we continue at this pace it'll be more like destroying your body than actual training."

Harry frowns, but he can't disagree. Normally the soreness after exercise is a good sort of pain, but in the last two days especially it's gone past that point. He nods slowly and steps off the rope. He can feel the tightness of his muscles more than any other day that he's done the same exercise.

"It's good to let the muscles repair themselves by having a break," Aizawa adds.

 _Sure, a break won't hurt._ Even if Harry hates not being productive with his time, exercising less over the next few days simply means he has more time designing, so it's really just focusing his efforts in another area. "So will I still meet you here tomorrow morning?" he asks.

Aizawa nods once. "Yes. Nothing as strenuous, but if you're going to be ready for the sports festival, we can't afford  _not_  to meet."

Harry nods gratefully at his new teacher. "See you tomorrow, Sensei."

 

* * *

 

Harry hears the shouting from all the way outside the dorm building. Whoever it is isn't holding back in the slightest, screaming at the top of their lungs in the most furious rant he's ever heard in his life. Even more disturbing that he can hear it is that it's coming from the back of the building on the second floor.

_Right about the location of my room…_

A few dorm students are sticking their heads out into the hallway as Harry walks in, in various states of undress, some with wet hair and half dressed into their school uniforms. Harry can make out some of the words as he climbs the stairs to the second floor.

"You think you can just move out because I went out of town for a few weeks?" the voice screams. "How dare you defy me in such a way!"

At the top of the stairs, there's only one room with the door fully open, the clear source of the noise. It's the room right at the back of the hall. His room.

 _Of course it is…_ Whoever's yelling, it must be at Shouto.

 _This must be the reason he said his moving out of home was complicated._ Well, it certainly  _sounds_ complicated. If anything, now that sounds like an understatement.

Another voice begins to talk. It's deep, like the first voice, only much softer. Unsurprising, since this voice isn't angry and yelling like the first one. It's hard to tell from this distance, and he can't tell what they're saying, but it sounds a little like Shouto.

"No!" The angry voice begins again. "I am tired of this rebellion of yours, Shouto!"

_Definitely Shouto, then. I wonder who he's talking to?_

Harry gets his answer by way of a blast of heat rushing up the hallway. There's no visible fire, but suddenly he feels like he's sweating, as if the heater has been left on max for a week with all the windows closed.

_Endeavor._

Harry moves closer to his and Shouto's shared room, but doesn't even nearly have the audacity to enter. He leans against the wall outside, out of sight of the two inside.

"I'm  _not_ a child. I can make my own decisions," Harry hears Shouto say, determination lining his every word. Another blast of hot air rushes out the door.

"You think so? You think you could stop me if I went and told Principal Nezu that you're no longer going to be living on campus?" Endeavor asks in a tone that suggests that he's amused by the idea.

 _He couldn't._ Harry doesn't know what the point of contention is between the two, but unless Shouto has been granted emancipation by the state, and he doubts very much that's the case, then Endeavor is still his legal guardian. Shouto says nothing in response.

"That's what I thought," Endeavour says, sounding smug. Just from the confident tone in his voice, Harry thinks he's a man that's definitely used to getting his own way. "Pack your things. We're going home."

Instead of hot air, this time a quick blast of freezing cold air comes out the door to their room in an invisible wave. It's quickly replaced by a much more intense heat than even earlier.

 _This is getting out of hand._ No doubt the cold air must be Shouto's own quirk. What can be so bad between the father and son that'd he'd resort to using his quirk just so that he won't have to go home with him?

"Don't challenge me, Shouto!" Endeavour yells.

"I'm staying," Shouto says. He's not yelling at his father, but he does sound much more tense than usual. "I already told you, I don't  _need_ your power." The air flowing out of the room grows ever hotter, and Harry swear that he sees a brief lick of flame flicker in front of him.

"I will not let you throw away years of my hard work!"

Harry's stepping around the corner with barely a thought. He moves on instinct. The part of his brain that  _does_ think recognizes what he's about to do as a  _terrible_ idea, but it's not strong enough logic to deter him. Shouto sees him enter immediately, his eyes widening in shock. It causes Endeavor to turn around and face him, a furious glare in his eyes. For a man with a quirk called Hellfire, his eyes seem to burn cold rather than hot.

The air in the room is even hotter than it was out in the hall. It's stifling, and Harry can barely breathe with the thickness of it. But it's Endeavor himself that gives Harry the most pause. The pressure he exudes is  _terrifying,_ and it's not difficult at all to believe that this is the hero, ranked second or not, most known for being utterly unmerciful with his enemies. It's what has damaged his reputation most in recent years, that while he is overwhelmingly powerful, he has a habit of using excessive force with his opponents.

With that thought, Harry knows exactly what buttons to push to handle the situation. For a pro-hero, reputation is  _everything._ Without it, he loses sponsors, police cooperation; and even legal action could be taken against him. With the slew of accusations against him in recent months, no doubt Endeavor knows this better than most.

"Who the hell are you?" Endeavor snarls. That terrifying pressure increases, and for a moment, Harry struggles to even get words the out.

"Oh my God! Endeavor?" Harry whispers reverently. "I can't believe it's you!" He tries his best to sound like a groupie fanboy.

"Answer the question." If Harry thought that the man's presence was forceful before, when it's facing him directly, it's utterly suffocating.

 _This might be the stupidest thing I have ever done._ But he's not about to turn back now.

"When Shouto became my roommate I never thought I would actually get to  _meet_ you. I can't believe this is happening…" Of all the things he could do, Endeavor rolls his eyes. It's a good sign that he's actually buying Harry's act. "Do you think I could get an autograph? Maybe a picture?" Harry asks hopefully, still trying to sound like as much of a fan as possible.

"I'm trying to have a conversation with my son," Endeavor says through ground teeth. It's very clear he wants to yell at Harry to leave, but just as Harry thought, he knows it could easily come back to bite him. His tempered reaction just proves to Harry that his plan will probably work.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It'll be real quick, promise!" Harry says. He pulls his phone from his pocket. "My followers will  _never_ believe this." Harry snaps a quick picture of a very dumbfounded looking Endeavor and Shouto.

"I've told  _everyone_ online that I'm lucky enough to have the son of the number two hero as my roommate, and now I even have proof!" Harry says in an excited whisper. "And I mean  _everyone."_ It's the exact words that Endeavor doesn't want to hear. "What a hero," Harry continues, "letting your son move into the dorms at UA to help him succeed, and even coming to visit him on campus. I admire you so much."

Endeavor's face grows angrier with every passing word. The fire that makes up his beard grows longer, and his eyes flare dangerously. Harry restrains the urge to gulp.

It was exactly his spur of the moment plan. If Harry can bluff that he's told everyone that Shouto is living on campus, then it will seem suspicious if Endeavor suddenly pulls him out. Even from the brief encounter between the father and son that Harry's heard, he highly doubts that Endeavor will want people looking too closely at the relationship between they share.

Harry's put him in a difficult position, and judging from Shouto's expression of shock and awe, he knows it, too. Harry can practically see Endeavor's brain ticking over, trying to decide on the best course of action. Eventually, he turns back around to face his son. "We  _will_ talk about this later," he says before turning around and heading towards the door.

As he passes, Harry bows low. "It was an honor meeting you, sir." Endeavor doesn't answer, just stalks past Harry without even bothering to look in his direction, as if he's no longer even there.

As soon as he's left their room, Harry's awed expression vanishes. He immediately straightens and walks casually over to his side of the room. His heart is threatening to beat it's way out of his chest, but there's not much to do about that but move on with his day. As he goes through the clothes in the chest of drawers at the end of his bed, he can feel Shouto's eyes on him, watching him intently. Harry doesn't turn to look at him.

"Why did you do that?" Shouto asks.

It's a  _very_ good question.

 _Why_ _ **did**_ _I do that?_ He can't seem to come to a logical conclusion. "Do what?" Harry fakes, trying to deflect the question.

Shouto scoffs. "You don't really expect me to believe you're that big a fan of my father, do you?"

Harry hesitates before turning around to face his roommate. The answer to that question is no, he  _doesn't_  actually expect him to believe his act. Despite the lack of time spent with him, Harry knows he's not stupid, and he's not even once showed any evidence of being excited that Shouto is Endeavor's son, or that he's a fan of the man himself.

"No," Harry admits with a slight shake of his head.

"Then… why?"

Again, Harry hesitates. "I guess… I just thought it was the right thing to do." The words spill out of his mouth without too much thought.

_It might not have been the right thing, though._

Shouto raises a single eyebrow, but says nothing. Harry simply stares back at the boy for a few more moments before nodding once. He can only think of the fact that Shouto was ready to use his quirk against his father in order to stay that Harry stepped in. Still, it's not  _entirely_ logical. Even if Shouto doesn't want to return home, Harry has no idea why, or if he's even right to help him do it.

_What if Shouto is just being a petulant teenager, and Endeavor is just trying to steer him on the right path?_

As soon as the thought enters his head, Harry denies it. As logical as it sounds, it doesn't  _feel_ right. Something about their relationship seems off, and Harry can't help but feel that whatever it is, the fault lies with Endeavor. The man's presence alone isn't exactly the warm and loving embrace of a father.

_No, I did the right thing._

"Right. Well I've got to get to class," Shouto says, looking uncertain, as if he wants to say more, but not knowing what he actually wants to say.

" _Give him a chance. His father is very strict with him."_ Momo's words about Shouto jump into his head as the other boy turns to leave the room. "Shouto?" The boy turns around to face him.

Harry doesn't really know what he's going to say before it's coming out of his mouth. "No offense, but your dad kind of seems like a dick."

Apparently its the right thing to say. Shouto smiles and lets out a breath, possibly a small laugh. It's the first smile Harry's seen on his face. "See you later, Harry." He walks out the door. His farewell is far more friendly than any he's given before.

_Perhaps Shouto isn't as opposed to having friends as he'd like to think._

 

* * *

 

"I still stand by my idea that Lithium Air batteries would have been the better way to go," Harry says.

Tom laughs humorlessly, intently scanning the numbers on his computer screen. "I think you mean  _easier."_ Harry opens his mouth to argue, but Tom's not wrong. The whole idea of starting with a battery rather than some crazy reactor or power core like Tom wanted was that it would be  _easier._ So far, that's not proving to be the case.

Initially, all Harry wanted to do was to take the next step beyond the present Lithium Ion batteries, just to get more energy output for his devices with a faster recharge time. But over the past week Tom has somehow coerced him into going just  _slightly_ more than that, if one could consider the development of nanotechnology to assist in the design of theoretical graphene super-capacitors  _slight._

In truth, he'd been easily convinced. Tom is so determined to design something incredible with Harry that he'd practically put together a full presentation to coerce him to his way of thinking. He'd still kept to the idea of building an energy source for their devices, but he'd gone so much further, providing solid evidence that by delving into nanotechnology to create solid, usable graphene, they could build a supercapacitor so much more powerful than the Lithium Air battery that Harry had proposed.

The only downside is the time factor. While such technology has been proposed before, it is for now only theoretical, and a decade away at least, though Tom seems to think they can get it done in a mere fraction of that time.

 _Perhaps we can._ Even just working on it for less than a week, they're making incredible progress. Thanks to the resources at UA, along with Professor McGonagall's element changing quirk, they have far better access to perfect graphene than almost anywhere else in the world.

It's been a very enlightening week. While it would be an unfair statement to say that Harry hasn't added as much to their project as Tom, he also can't deny that Tom is extraordinary in a way that Harry just isn't. He can calculate ridiculously complex equations almost instantly, and fully formed ideas jump into his head just as quickly. It's no longer a mystery as to why Tom had been so angry to find out Harry didn't have a quirk boosting his intelligence. It's because Tom  _does_ have one. He's not admitted it, and Harry's not about to ask, but there's no doubt now that's the case.

"See? Numbers don't lie," Tom says, pointing at his computer screen.

Harry's seen many other of Tom's computer generated results, and they all show the same outcome. A supercapacitor made with the wondrous element that is graphene utterly  _dwarfs_ the predicted results of a Lithium Air battery in  _almost_ every respect.

"Yes, but the energy density isn't as high," Harry argues, pointing at the simulated results on the screen.

"Well of course, supercapacitors generally  _don't_ have the energy density that batteries do. But they're more powerful in  _every_ other area - recharge and discharge, cycle life, thermal variance - the list goes on!" Tom argues strenuously.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Yes, but energy density is important too! The whole point of wanting to make a battery was to ensure that we can build devices without worrying about energy output!"

"We've already been working on the supercapacitor for nearly a week!" Tom stresses. "Stop back-tracking! If we put our heads together, we can overcome the energy density problem."

_And there it is again._

Tom seems to think that just because they're intelligent, they can do  _anything._ Harry's approach is different. They're still bound by scientific laws, and even if what he says is  _possible,_ that doesn't mean they can overcome everything with just the two of them. Laboratories all over the world have entire teams dedicated to projects like this. But here, it's just the two of them. Once again, it's Tom the dreamer vs Harry the realist.

"What makes you think we can overcome a problem that  _all_ supercapacitors face?" Harry asks. "This is why I wanted to focus on a  _battery._ They're simpler, and easier, and-"

_Wait._

"…But we're making good headway on nanotechnology," Harry cuts off his own argument, struck by sudden inspiration.

Tom blinks.

Harry frowns. "Move," he says, pulling Tom on his wheeled chair out from in front of his own computer. Tom lets it happen. This isn't the first argument like this they've had, and it's not the first time throughout their working together that an idea has struck Harry like lightning. He starts plugging different variables into Tom's algorithm, hoping this time to get a better simulated result.

Tom reads along as Harry types them in. "A scalable nanoporous graphene synthesis?" Tom asks. "That's-" he seems to hesitate for a moment, thinking it through, " _Brilliant!"_

Harry smiles and finishes putting information into the algorithm. He runs the program. It's not an  _absolute_ measurement of course, that will only come with an actual prototype, but Tom's algorithm is good, and there's no doubt it will give them a good idea of how it will turn out. Omni could probably give a more precise result, but he's not about to reveal that he's designing an AI unless it's absolutely essential.

Tom laughs as he reads the new measurements. "Oh, we should make a battery instead! Supercapacitor's are just  _too_ complicated!" he says, jokingly mimicking Harry's tone.

"Shutup."

The readings the algorithm has given are beyond even the energy density of the proposed Lithium Air battery, all in an energy storage device that would charge in less than thirty seconds. There's no way he can keep up the argument to build his battery instead. Not now.

"Weren't you just saying that we can't overcome a problem that all supercapacitors face?" Tom asks sarcastically, an amused smile on his face.

"Shutup," Harry repeats, though there's no real heat in it. They've been like this all week. Somehow, someway, Tom's dreamer nature wins out over Harry's realism every time.

_Perhaps I doubt my abilities too much._

Before working with Tom, such a thought would have seemed ridiculous. After all, just for his interview at UA, he'd successfully developed an entirely new alloy for his grapple, a neurotransmitter, and at least part of an  _artificial intelligence._ Yet a week working with Tom, and they're well on the way to developing technology that's really only existed in science fiction.

"You see now? Together we can accomplish  _anything,_ " Tom says.

Harry shrugs with a single shoulder. "I don't know about  _anything._ "

Tom looks slightly disappointed, but he covers it well.

"But I will admit," Harry continues. "It is  _great_ to be working with someone like you."

Tom tries to hide his smugness, but Harry sees it still. "Someone like me?" He asks innocently, pretending to hide the arrogance that lurks just under the surface.

Harry refrains from rolling his eyes, though it would only be in good nature if he did. He nods. "Someone who  _really_ understands what I'm talking about. I used to talk to my friend Momo about my designs and ideas, but I always got the feeling that alot of it went over her head." He feels bad saying it, but it's absolutely true. Momo is a very intelligent girl, but there's no way she'd be up for something like what Tom and he are doing.

"Well," Tom says thoughtfully. "At least you are starting to understand what I've known for  _weeks._ There's nobody quite like the two of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ll get to more exciting stuff soon, promise! Just in the build-up stage at the moment :) Trying to flesh things out a bit more. Hopefully not boring, though!


	10. Power

**Chapter 10 - Power**

 

"You ever do anything like this with that friend you mentioned," Tom asks, still carefully focused on putting the final pieces into place on their collaborative design. Harry watches Tom's steady hands from over the top of the boy's shoulder. Most people are bothered when someone's watching over the top of them like this, but he and Tom have found a very comfortable rhythm when they're working together.

"Momo?"

_Again?_ It's not the first time Tom's brought her up since Harry mentioned her a few weeks ago. No matter how much Harry stresses that Momo was more of a sounding board than a design partner, Tom still seems insecure about the fact that Harry has worked with someone before him.

"No, definitely not. Like I said, Momo was great sounding board, and she used her creation quirk to help me with resources alot, but we never really built anything together." Tom doesn't say anything in answer, just leans closer to their prototype supercapacitor, trying to slide the final piece of ultra thin, transparent graphene into place. It's proving quite difficult, due to the element's unusual flexibility and the fact that its only a single carbon atom thick.

"If I'm really honest, the more I learned and the more complex my designs grew over the years, the less she seemed to understand. She got a little more disinterested over time, though she's always been nice enough to at least feign an interest.

_Which is more than I can say for my parents…_

"Good thing you found me, then," Tom says.

It's a good thing Tom can't see Harry roll his eyes behind him. For a guy so full of confidence, he's also strangely insecure, at least when it comes to he and Harry working together.

"It sounds to me like she might've been jealous," he adds.

Harry can't help it - he laughs. "Jealous? What on earth would Momo have to be jealous of? I did tell you that her quirk allows her to create any non-organic object, right?"

Tom leans back, resting the stubborn strip of graphene on top of the device for a moment. He shrugs. "You also said she needs to understand the composition of what she wants to create. I think it would be hard to have a friend as smart as you, and not want that brain for herself, especially when it can make her so much more powerful."

Harry shakes his head with amusement. "Yes, but she's certainly no slouch. Momo is still smarter than most."  _Along with being, tall, beautiful and powerful…_ Nobody in middle school would even  _dare_ cross Harry when Momo was around. There's no way she could possibly be jealous of him. "I think you're wrong."

Tom shrugs again, leaning forward once more and picking up the graphene. "Could be," he says. "Just making an observation. Ugh, finally!" Harry looks over Tom's shoulder once more to see the graphene finally in the right spot. It's the final piece needed to complete the prototype. All that's needed now is to test it.

"It's all set up," Harry says, stepping out of Tom's booth and moving towards the back of the workshop. Once again, they've stayed late, and the sun has long since set. As such, there's nobody else there.

Tom brings the prototype towards the back of the room, to where Harry has set up a number of cables connected to the power running the school. More than likely it would really only take one cable to charge the prototype to capacity, and if their theory proves correct, in less than a minute. But since it is the prototype, they're more interested in seeing just how much energy their creation can hold, which means as many cables as possible, all industrial strength rather than commercial.

After connecting all the cables, Tom and Harry walk over to both sides of the room, ready to turn on the power at the same time. "Ready?" Harry asks. Tom nods and begins to count down from three. When the countdown reaches one, they simultaneously flick the switches. For a few brief moments, it seems as though nothing is happening. Tom's watching the energy measurements intently with a small hand-held device of his own making.

Harry jumps back as the cables start to spark. The lights on the roof begin to flicker wildly before the glass bulbs shatter and fall to the floor. A high pitched whine fills the room for a few seconds before disappearing, leaving Harry and Tom in the silent darkness, outside of the occasional sparking cables.

"What the hell was that?" Harry all but yells. This isn't at all what they estimated would happen. A few flickering lights was to be expected, but not an energy surge of that magnitude.

"That's not possible," Tom whispers from the other side of the room. It's the last thing Harry expects to hear. Up until now, it didn't seem like Tom even thought something  _could_ be impossible. Harry reaches down to his pocket for his phone, activating the flashlight to make his way over. Tom's looking down at the energy readings with wide eyes.

"What's wrong? Did the prototype malfunction?"

Tom shakes his head. "No, it's fine. Measured quite above what we expected, though."

_That explains why more energy was needed…_ It still seems strange that it would have needed that much energy, though. "Surely it didn't take all  _that_ to charge it?"

Tom lifts the reading towards Harry with a small shake of his head. "No, thats not it."

The reading is massive. Mind-bogglingly massive.

"What? No way," Harry says disbelievingly, snatching the reading out of Tom's hand and peering closer, as if the result will change before his very eyes. "There's no way that could be right."

"That's not all in our supercapacitor of course, but thats how much electrical energy was just pulled into this room," Tom explains. "There must be something powering the school, it's the only thing that could explain these readings."

Harry pinches at his chin. "You think the rapid drain of energy pulled on a surge from some sort of reactor?"

"How else do you explain what happened, especially with how fast the energy subsided once it began? It must have activated a failsafe."

The energy readings back up the theory. Unless Tom's device is broken, which doesnt seem likely, there's definitely something powerful hidden away in UA.

"There's only one way to find out," Tom says. "You're a good hacker, right? Think you can get the school's blueprints?"

 

* * *

 

"We should  _not_ be doing this," Harry says for probably the thousandth time.

"So you keep saying, yet here you are."

It hadn't been at all difficult for Harry to get access to the plans for the school, even with his minor reluctance due to it being just  _slightly_ illegal. In the end though, his curiosity has him ignoring his usually more authoritative logical side. Really, it could get them both expelled, even police action taken against them, considering how seriously UA takes its security, but Harry's confident enough in his skills that the hack was untraceable. Even if he's a brilliant designer, programming and computer science has always been his greatest skill.

"I hope this is actually where it is," Harry says. It only took a quick analysis of the blueprints to reveals the most likely location for whatever it is they're looking for.

"A giant room underneath the school that doesn't look to serve any other purpose? Where else  _could_ it be?" Tom says.

They turn through the dark hallway, leading to the centre of the school, not far from the cafeteria. It's still eerie to be walking by themselves through the empty school, but being up so early and staying late every night has Harry  _almost_  used to the feeling. They're just outside the cafeteria, on the support building side, when they spot the door that leads down to the basement.

"Are we sure this is the right door?" Harry asks. "It's very unassuming… a student could  _easily_ walk in there by mistake." It seems rather irresponsible to leave a door leading to an energy reactor simply unattended and undefended, if indeed that is what is down there.

"Maybe that's the point. I know that  _I'd_ be curious if there was a door that was more heavily defended than any other in the school. Maybe they decided the best idea was to hide it in plain sight?" Tom suggests.

_That could be true, too._

"Do you think it's alarmed?" Tom asks.

Harry shakes his head, looking around the door for clues. "I don't think so. There's no keypad, or any camera or sensor to pick up anything that would allow them passage." He reaches out to open it, but the handle won't budge. "It is  _locked,_ though."

Harry turns to see a smirk make it's way onto Tom's face. "Shouldn't be a problem." He kneels down in front of the door and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a multitool pocket knife. He sticks one of the tools into the lock, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his lips.

"Where in the hell did you learn to pick a lock?" Harry asks.

Tom continues jiggling the tool, until there's a loud click, and the door swings open. "It's not all that difficult, really?" he says, stepping in through the now open door. "Are you coming?"

_Well that didn't answer my question at all._ Nevertheless, Harry steps inside the door behind him. It was definitely the right door. Inside is a stairwell, dimly lit, that looks to lead well below the school. From a quick look down the centre over the handrails, its at least ten levels below ground level.

"What do you think we're going to find down here?" Tom asks. "The only reactors in the world that could produce that much energy are far too big to fit under a school."

"We don't know that there's  _anything_ down here," Harry says. He was uncertain even  _before_ how easily they'd gotten through the door that there's anything in the basement, but now?

"Oh cmon! That power came from  _somewhere,_ and it's far too much to have come through the regular power grid. That means there is something on the campus itself powering the school. There was nowhere else on the blueprints that could even possible house something with a energy density of that magnitude."

That's true, too. With how fast the lights had overloaded, and then how fast the energy had dissipated, there's nothing else that really explains it. But even if it's true, he can't come up with a good reason as to what he's doing searching for it. He's dreamt of attending UA almost all his life, and now that he's here, he's doing something that could be throwing it all away.

"Well," Tom says. "I don't think I'm going to be able to pick  _that_ lock _."_

At the bottom of the stairs reveals the truth. If there's not something hidden behind  _this_ door, Harry will eat his own shoe. It's tall, and looks unbelievably thick, and made of the strongest metal. It looks like the entrance to a panic room, guarded by a keypad and a camera above it.

"Uh, no, I doubt it," Harry says.

Tom turns to face him with a serious look. "You brought your laptop, right? Think you can get us inside?"

_Maybe…_

"We should probably turn back. We're already on camera…"

"It's literally on the other side of this door. You can't tell me you're not curious!" Tom says. "A reactor with that much energy output in such a small size as that it will fit under a school? That's Nobel Prize stuff. We  _need_ to see it."

_Damn him._ Harry's never been the most persuadable person, but Tom always knows  _exactly_ what to say to turn him to his point of view.

"Fine," Harry grits out, pulling a thin laptop out of the bag hanging at his side, and opening it up in his arms. "But I don't even know if this door is even connected to the school's systems, let alone whether I will actually be able to get us in."

"You got the blueprints easily enough," Tom counters.

"Yes, because I didn't have to hack into UA's system to get them. The blueprints had to be lodged with the city council for approval, so it was far easier to hack them from there than from UA itself. I'd imagine their system has much better security."

"But you can still get into them, right?" Tom asks.

Harry shrugs. "I'm not sure. Even if I can, I'd probably have to write a dedicated program to get this door open, and that would take time…" Harry begins.

_But there might be a better way…_

Tom looks deflated before Harry's continuing. "I might have an idea. Just wait a sec," Harry says. He makes sure Tom can't see his screen before he's opening up his own program, Omni.

" _Omni, do you think you could get into UA's system? Undetected?"_ Harry types.

" _I'll try,"_ comes Omni's instantaneous response. It only takes about ten seconds, and UA's system, unlocked, comes onto the computer screen. Harry scans through it until he finds the door they're currently standing in front of. If it's on the screen, then clearly it's connected to the system.

" _Do you think you can open this door, with no alarms?"_ Harry types. Without a response from Omni, the door light flashes green, and it begins slowly sliding open.

"You were talking like it was going to be difficult," Tom says happily.

If Harry were doing it himself, it would have been. It might have taken days, at least, and Omni managed to do it in a matter of seconds. As always, Harry is surprised by how efficient Omni can be, despite being the one to design it. "Sometimes I even surprise myself," he ends up saying.

When the doors are fully open, Tom is the first to step inside, Harry only a moment behind him. It opens up into a massive area, far bigger than Harry was expecting, about three storey's high, and very, very wide. In the centre of the room is a sphere that looks to be made of some sort of glass, inside of which is a pulsing light, glowing blue. Cables stretch out from underneath it, connected to four tall metal pylons.

"What the hell is that?" Tom asks.

Harry has absolutely no idea. It's definitely not like any reactor he's ever heard of. If there was a reactor underneath the school, Harry had guessed it might be some sort of miniaturised fusion reactor, not whatever the hell this is. Still, from the hum of the electrical energy that can be heard, it's definitely still a reactor of some kind. The light in the sphere begins to grow larger, almost completely filling it, before it immediately shrinks back down again.

"This makes no sense," Harry says, stepping a little closer to the strange machine. "There's no evidence of anything even  _fuelling_ it. How can that even be possible?"

"It looks like pure energy," Tom says, awed. It's still strange to see him like this. Tom always seems like he believes anything is possible, and nothing is surprising. If anything's going to amaze him though, it's going to be this.

"Right you are, Mr. Riddle," a voice says from behind them.

The unexpected sound makes Harry jump, and he turns to see Professor Dumbledore stepping inside behind them.

_Oh, shit._

"Any ideas on what it could be?" Dumbledore asks, looking between them.

Harry  _does_ have one, can only think of one theoretical reactor that would appear to generate pure energy, but as far as he's aware, it's impossible with current technology.

"It couldn't be…" Harry starts, "but then… is it a matter/anti-matter reactor?"

Dumbledore's only answer is to raise an eyebrow above his twinkling eyes.

"Surely not. I mean, yes, it looks like pure energy, but where would you get enough antimatter to fuel it? It costs a fortune, and you would never get enough for a sustained and prolonged reaction," Tom adds.

Dumbledore shakes his head, but it appears to be in amusement, rather than him disputing it. "You boys are something else," he laughs. "Twenty years this has been here, and no student has  _ever_ made their way down here. You've made the discovery in just a few short weeks. Not only that, but you've managed to guess what it is."

"But… how could it be?" Harry asks, curiosity taking over from his fear of expulsion. "Tom's right, antimatter is so unbelievably rare, and expensive, and I can't even see where you would  _put_ it to fuel this reactor in particular. Not only that, but a matter/anti-matter reactor would need an effective way to separate the two to at least have  _some_ semblance of control, and this one doesn't at all. It seems to control and fuel itself… wait, is it-"

"There's a quirk involved here, isn't there?" Tom asks, finishing Harry's thought for him.

"Very good boys, very good indeed. Yes, there is a quirk involved here. Time loop, it is called. We only needed enough antimatter to trigger the reaction, before the creator's quirk trapped the reaction in an endless loop," Dumbledore says. "This reactor is the life's work of my predecessor, Nicholas Flamel. It was created to bring sustained, clean energy for this city, and eventually, the world. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be, at least not during his lifetime."

"Why not?" Harry asks. "It looks like it works."

"It does, but when it was completed, we had a decision to make." Dumbledore says. "I'm sure you understand the danger that something like this could pose. Limitless energy… in the wrong hands, it could prove catastrophic. Nicholas and myself came to the conclusion that the world isn't ready. There are too many in the world that would wish to use it as a weapon, and that is something that we could not abide."

To Harry, it makes perfect sense. Tom though, begins to argue. "You've been hiding something like this away for  _twenty years?_ This would have won a Nobel Prize - could solve the world's energy crisis. Hell, with this  _in_  the world, is it even fair to say that there  _is_ an energy crisis?"

"It was a difficult decision, and is  _still_ a difficult decision," Dumbledore concedes. "I believe in scientific progress, but until there is a way to secure it more fully, and ensure that it never becomes a weapon, it needs to remain secret."

Tom scowls.

"Then is this really the most secure place for it?" Harry asks. "I mean,  _we_ found it, and if it's so dangerous, shouldn't it be somewhere else?"

"It is quite secure. I was alerted the moment you unlocked the door upstairs, though remarkably, not when you gained access to this room…" Dumbledore locks eyes with Harry. From the look that lingers between them, it's clear that Dumbledore knows  _exactly_ how they managed to gain access. Harry awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

"Beyond that, even if it does somehow manage to break containment," Dumbledore says, "These four pylons are enough to temporarily halt the energy in time for us to get here and destroy it completely."

_Destroy it completely?_

"How on earth would you actually  _do_ that?" Tom scoffs. "It's  _pure_ energy."

"We have precautions in place, never you mind," Dumbledore says. "I am more concerned about what to do now that you  _have_  found it."

_Oh no._

"Do I have your  _word_  that you won't say a word to anyone about what you have seen?" Dumbledore asks, now seeming less like a wise old man and more a stern former hero. His eyes aren't twinkling, now.

"Yes, Professor," Harry says. he means it, too. What the headmaster says is utterly true. As much as the reactor could be a positive influence in the world, there is too much potential for destruction for it to be public knowledge, at least yet.

"And I have your word that you won't be breaking any more rules? I have ample reason to expel you both right now, but it would be a great loss to the school, and I would be quite upset if I was forced to do that."

"Yes, you have my word," Harry says.

Tom though, looks conflicted. Harry elbows him in the arm, and he looks up at Dumbledore. "Yes," he says simply.

_Well that was believable…_

Still, Dumbledore seems to accept it. He claps his hands once. "Very good. Now, it's quite late, and now that the two of you are done with your supercapacitor, you should get some well-deserved sleep."

_How does he know what we've been doing?_

Before Dumbledore can walk away, Harry has to ask. "But… is that it? You're just going to make us promise? There's no punishment?"

Tom looks at Harry as though he's grown a second head. Logically, it probably is a stupid thing to ask, but it also seems a little irresponsible for Dumbledore to let them off with no more than a warning. They broke more than just the school rules to get down here, after all.

"Curiosity is not a sin. I encourage it, even," Dumbledore says. "But it should always be tempered, lest it get away from you. You should both remember that in future."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a while! Believe it or not, I've actually been spending quite a bit of time working on fics, both this one and others. Rewrites mostly, going back and fixing mistakes and just trying to make them read better. In this fic especially, chapters 1-4 have been changed a bit - nothing plotwise though. Anyway, I should be back to somewhat more of a regular schedule, now that I've finished with the rewrites both for this fic and others. Thanks for being patient, and I hope you enjoyed the chap.
> 
> Thanks for everyone who's followed/favorited, and especially to those who have taken the time to review.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes
> 
> Hi all, hoped you enjoyed reading the first chapter. This one has been swimming around in my head for a really long time now, and I’ve had drafts written for months, so I figured I might as well post it.
> 
> Just so people know, this won’t be a Harry/Momo fic, they’re just awesome friends.
> 
> If you couldn’t tell from the first chapter, this might feature characters acting pretty O/C, but that’s not that weird considering it’s a full on AU fic.
> 
> Also, there is no magic in this fic at all. Its just Harry Potter characters in a world of quirks and superheroes.
> 
> I hope some of you take the time to review. Reviews are like my lifeblood.
> 
> Also I’m playing with a different tense in this fic, so if I’ve screwed up at all, feel free to let me know, the habit of using past tense is proving hard to break :\
> 
> Thanks!


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